Show, Not Tell
by adverbshere
Summary: Shelter, leading up to and through the movie, from Shaun's point of view.
1. Chapter 1

"**Perhaps love is like a resting place, A shelter from the storm, It exists to give you comfort, It is there to keep you warm, And in those times of trouble, When you are most alone, The memory of love will bring you home…"**

** "Perhaps Love" John Denver, American Singer/Songwriter**

As a writer, my biggest challenge and primary goal when revealing a character's personality, their essence, what makes them tick, well-their character, is to show, not tell. It's easy to write "Rich was a lying, cheating bastard," but that doesn't convey to the reader or audience what level of slimy cretin Rich has the capacity of behaving in as "Shaun approached the bedroom door—the dread of what he knew he would discover settled at the bottom of his stomach, an anchor dragging him back as he reached for the handle. The grunts and moans that his ears were already uneasily detecting didn't prepare him to see his boyfriend of two and a half years participating in a three-way with his best friend and their neighbor." When I talk, I prefer the succinctness and lack of details and awkward explanations of what telling, rather than showing, affords me. So when I had to give my agent a reason why I was picking up my life and moving, taking a break for a while to lick my wounds, and therefore missing deadlines I had set for both the scripts I was working on and my book, I chose those six words instead of "painting a picture" with my words. Luckily, my agent was never fond of Rich and didn't ask questions I didn't want to answer.

Now, what to do with myself during this reprieve? My plans to go to Barcelona in a couple months will have to be put on hold. My bank account wasn't expecting to have to take on a deposit, new lease and utilities that I was used to paying half of. Not to mention the furniture, house-ware, and more that picking up and leaving with little more than a longboard and three suitcases'-worth of your life costs.

First things first: find a place to live. Luckily my agent's wife is in real estate and set me up with a great rental-finder. I only had to tour a few places before viewing the cutest duplex in North Hollywood. Both homes have availability within a month or two and are adorable and historic and absolutely unlike the sleek and modern condo I'd shared with Rich. One has two bedrooms with a small patio shaded by the orange trees surrounding the entire duplex. It is well within my new single-income budget and the second bedroom will work nicely as my office. The second has three bedrooms with a huge attached garage and is slightly more than I'd necessarily want to spend, but the guaranteed spot for my car would be a definite bonus. It has a small yard and the owner of the duplex is probably one of the nicest people I've met since coming to LA. Her name is Susan and she took to me instantly insisting I remind her of her "gay nephew Travis." That automatic kinship she felt gets me first dibs on which house I want so after much debate I choose the two-bedroom home because I can get into it a few weeks sooner, but Susan insists that if I change my mind before she finds another tenant to give her a call and the three-bedroom is mine.

Though the third bedroom would be great for when my brother Gabe comes to visit, he rarely does and will be just fine on the couch I still need to purchase. He's no longer allowed to use my office as guest room after the last time he and his friends visited. The incessant partying and club-hopping I totally understood—I remember being newly 21 as it was only nine years ago, but he also has a tendency of going through my notebooks and the files on my laptop and finding things he shouldn't. He ended up reading some dialog I was working on for a script for a romantic comedy, using the lines on some drunk chick at the bar (they worked!), and narrowly avoided losing some teeth when her boyfriend didn't appreciate his attention or her enthusiastic reaction! Baby brother also didn't deal well when he found the homoerotic storylines in a book I was working on a few years ago. You would think he would have learned his lesson and stopped snooping but Gabe's not exactly the most couth person I know. Being naturally curious bordering on annoyingly-inquisitive-about-things-that-are-none-of-his-business combined with his "younger brother" outlook makes Gabe a super-sleuth when it comes to digging up stuff on his adored big bro. I make a mental note to get a couch that's uncomfortable for overnight guests to make up for what I'm sure will be more privacy intrusions next time he comes to visit from Santa Barbara.

That's not to say he's not equally adored. I love Gabe—would love him even if we weren't related. His nosiness aside, he's got a great heart and the eight year difference in our ages gave me the chance to help my mom raise him when I was a teenager. He hardly remembers our father who passed away when he was four. I was 12 at the time and took on a lot of responsibility as the "man of the house." We lived in a tiny house in San Pedro then, and continued to live there until my mom married Larry when I was about 17. Larry, our step-father, swept Mom off her very tired, exhausted, single-parent feet and moved us to a mansion in the nice part of Long Beach then. Those early years of struggle for my parents and then helping around the house at an early age definitely shaped my responsible and introspective personality in the same way that our new affluent lifestyle during his formative years brought out Gabe's more outgoing and wild self.

I sometimes wonder if our dissimilar character traits would be so pronounced if our upbringing was the same as is the case with most siblings. Though Larry's not my favorite person, I don't begrudge my mom the easier lifestyle that marrying him afforded her, and in turn, us. And for as different as Gabe and I are, we share several common interests, though my influence on him as the big brother probably inspired his love of surfing; I taught him how to hang ten when he was eight years old, and our increased allowance definitely helped keep us and our friends in boards and wetsuits. I guess I haven't been in such dire financial circumstances as I currently am since before Larry came into our lives, so that's another thing to thank randy Rich for, the asshole.

All these thoughts of Gabe and our youth and surfing help me figure out what to do until my new place is ready. I'll go home—well, home to the beach house on Ocean Drive in Long Beach. Though I wouldn't call it my "home" to anyone else, the sun, the sand, the shore have always felt like where I'm from and where I belong. I've spent too much time in LA lately without hitting the beach and I can definitely feel its call. Gabe had just left there, heading back to his current base of Santa Barbara where he's going to school, and Mom and Larry are traveling the globe for four more months so I'll have the place to myself. Solitude, a place to work where no one would bug me or even think to find me, for a few weeks at least, sounds like heaven. Luckily my Subaru is already packed from leaving Rich so it's only a 40 minute drive to sanctuary.


	2. Chapter 2

"**You could not give me toys in those bleak days; So when my playmates proudly boasted theirs, You caught me to the shelter of your arms, And taught me how to laugh away my tears."**

** DuBose Heyward, American Author**

I arrive at the beach house in the middle of the evening. Exhausted, I grab one of my three bags and head to the door, leaving everything else until the morning. It's been four years since I was last here for Gabe's high school graduation, but the key is still in the same pot it has always been hidden in on the back terrace. I climb the stairs to my room in the dark hoping to just crawl into bed. When I get to my room, after turning on the light, I realize that not visiting in several years means the bedding had been stripped so I head to linen closet. I also realize there is quite a bit of furniture in my room (and other rooms in the mansion, if not much has changed since I was a more frequent visitor) that won't be missed. I smile at the thought of furnishing my new place with better-than-knock-off crap that I had been planning on as I grab some sheets and a big comforter with a funky chartreuse design that I hope will brighten my mood. I make the bed and then throw myself on it, hugging a pillow to my chest as I finally let the events of the past couple of days wash over me.

Letting myself think and feel and face the end of my relationship made for a restless night. I wake up with all the pillows and blankets on the floor, like I had been fighting them in my sleep. I probably had been, and subconsciously getting out that aggression in my dreams, while not allowing me to wake as rested as I had hoped, does bring back my normal, peaceful energy that had been missing since walking out on Rich. The rage is gone, replaced with a sense of relief that something I'd been dreading for a while has finally happened and I can now move forward. I know that I will still occasionally battle with the issues anyone who's been cheated on has: _Why was it so easy to cheat on me?_ and _Am I not worth it?_ et cetera, but stronger than that is my sense of narrowly avoiding a crap-load of issues being with Rich for the long haul would have brought. It's funny how you can see that looking back. I didn't think I would begin healing so quickly, which is perfect—I can continue writing sooner than I had anticipated, and every antagonist will have Rich's face. I will exact my revenge that way; instead of passing petty gossip to our mutual friends, I'll find success in my scripts and upcoming book that he indirectly helps, once I figured out what this book is going to be about.

I spend the day working on plot points for an action script I'm working on. It involves a man who had been a part of an elite crew of mercenaries who are skilled in martial arts. My knowledge of the Far East and its self-defense styles is limited to being a fan of the original _Karate Kid _(the star was a hottie!) and helping Gabe's best friend, Zach with a rather large report he had to do on Asian customs and legends probably 12 years ago.

Zach and Gabe met when we were still living in San Pedro when they were about eight. I was 16 at the time and totally into surfing and skateboarding and avoiding the fact that I was more excited by Ralph Macchio than Elizabeth Shue and what that entailed. Zach and his family had moved to a place down the street from ours and he and Gabe met running around the neighborhood. From what I could tell, Gabe was shooting off his mouth about how he'd seen Zach's sister, Jeanne, who is two years younger than I am, "dirty kissing" Jerrod from two streets over. Jerrod was the neighborhood "bad boy" and that kind of story wouldn't exactly paint this new girl in the best light. Gabe, who didn't realize at the time what kind of implications telling others about Jeanne would cause, was very surprised when Jeanne's younger brother defended her honor with a stiff upper hook. When Gabe came whining to me about it, my reply shocked him.

"That kid Zach was right to shut you up. You shouldn't talk shit about someone's family, _EVER_." Even if I agreed the daughter of the new family on the block should tone it down before getting a bad reputation, I had to respect an eight year old who tried to protect a sister six years his senior.

Gabe's next interaction with Zach happened a few weeks later. Several boys a year ahead of Gabe were making fun of his name calling him "Baby-Gabey" (nine year olds' maturity levels were clearly borderline-stupid if that's the best they could come up with) and telling him he still wore diapers. Zach stumbled upon the group and picked a fight with the two biggest boys taunting Gabe. They eventually left before the younger boy could prove himself yet again (word had gotten around among the neighborhood kids about Zach's powerful fists), and Gabe was left alone. That one incident cemented a loyal life-long friendship that would end up withstanding distance, economic status, and the kind of shit I couldn't even come up with my writer's imagination. My big-brother-of-a-fatherless-little-brother self was grateful li'l Gabe made such a loyal friend with a protective streak. That self also decided to redirect these eight year olds' energy from fighting to other physical activities in an effort to keep them out of the trouble they would inevitably stumble upon.

The first time I met Zach was a few days after the "Baby-Gabey" incident. I had encouraged Gabe to bring his new friend over and I would take them to the beach. Gabe was so proud when he introduced big-brother Shaun to his new-best-friend-in-the-whole-world Zach. The boy, with his big observant eyes wearing an ill-fitting jacket was in no way the prize-fighter I was expecting. This quiet, earnest, polite boy protected loud-mouthed Gabe? I remember kneeling down to introduce myself and he finally looked me in the eye. I could see an intelligence there I wasn't expecting from someone who used his fists to solve his problems. I loaded the boys into my pride and joy: a gray '88 Ford Bronco II, along with my second-biggest investment, a Dewey Weber surfboard. I had borrowed a couple rarely-used boards from some of the guys I surfed with to begin lessons. Zach picked up the basics quickly, and Gabe's competitive nature helped him to keep up.

Their excitement for learning this new skill together only strengthened their bond of friendship. Soon Gabe told me that that he and Zach were blood-brothers. At this point Larry was courting Mom, and her attention was on him, so I was glad my brother's focus was elsewhere and decided to overlook the potential teaching moment on communicable diseases that his admission prompted. I would take them to the beach two or three times a week for surf lessons, and then sessions, picking them up after school from Zach's house. His dad was usually at work, and Jeanne was awkwardly attentive to me (and any male within a mile radius), so I was always happy to see his mother, Sylvia, when I picked them up.

Sylvia was quiet and observant like her son, and anyone could tell she adored her family by the way she would caress Zach's cheek as he rushed out the door, or insisted we take home-made snacks with us to the beach. Her love for her son Zach, extended to his "blood-brother" and beyond to me. She would work with the boys ensuring they finished their homework before I would take them out. She'd often ask me how my schooling was going and was more encouraging than my own mother when I expressed interest in becoming a writer. Sylvia passed away about three years ago while I was in Europe and one of my biggest regrets is that I couldn't make it back to say goodbye to such a gentle, caring woman. The flowers I sent could in no way express how sad I was that this mother, who could put love in something as simple as Rice Krispie Treats for her children, had passed away.

Thoughts of Sylvia's cooking make my stomach growl and bring me out of my memories. I save my work and close the laptop, unable to decide if my writing is decent or crap. Grabbing my keys and slipping into some flip-flops, I head to the garage and my car. The kitchen was empty (thanks Gabe), so I need to stock up on necessities. I head to the nearby grocery store and get half a cart's worth of food, throwing yogurt and steaks, hummus and croissants, beer and bananas haphazardly into the basket. I make sure to grab Rice Krispies and milk. Heading home, I decide to eat a sandwich, have a beer, and head to bed.

Waking before sunrise, I debate between working on the script or my book. I open both on my computer and add a couple notes that had come to me in sleep. This often happens for me—characters will reveal something about themselves or a plot twist will begin to unfold when I'm between being totally asleep and having my first cup of coffee. Something for the main character of the martial arts mercenary script came to me in this place and I type some general notes that I will elaborate on later. I'll definitely need to do some internet research on fighting styles before getting started plotting out fight scenes. I start another list of the knowledge I do have on Asian fighting and culture, which is woefully pitiful.

I was about 18 when I helped Zach on his Asian legends assignment. At that point, Larry and my mother had married and we had moved from the 'hood to the beach house mansion. Along with this upgrade in zip codes came an upgrade in schooling for Gabe. I had just graduated from high school with a scholarship to CalArts for writing and in an effort to take as little of Larry's money as possible, stayed with them during the summer and on most weekends so my spending was within the financial aid I received. Gabe was excited about his new junior high, but I could tell he would miss Zach. Since they were no longer within a close vicinity of each other to hang out several hours each day, they spent most evenings and whenever they couldn't be together on the walkie-talkies Larry got him the Christmas before. Zach must have missed his best friend too. When I went to pick him up for a trip to the beach that summer, Sylvia mentioned that Zach was determined to stay with his best friend. If I were to show, rather than tell a reader about Zach's character, it would easily be a scene of him, at his kitchen table most of that summer, studying for a test that would eventually qualify him for a scholarship to Gabe's new school. How this ten year old kid was doing everything in his limited power to keep his relationship with his blood-brother not only intact, but was also working to better his own life, was humbling, and it was something I understood, having just applied myself and my studies toward my own scholarship.

Zach got in and took the "short bus" every day to his new uptown school, waking up earlier than the other kids to get to the bus stop in time. I have no doubt the richy-rich kids at the school picked on him, but he never complained. One of the first big class assignments for them that year was to study a foreign land and report about interesting customs and legends there. Gabe lucked out and got Greece as a subject. It was simple for him to find info on legendary Greek mythology which easily explained many of their customs. Zach's assignment was China. He didn't bring it up when I picked them both up from school as a surprise the Friday before the assignments were due, but when we stopped by his house to get his surf gear, I could tell Sylvia was worried. Her health was slowly declining-had been declining for a while-and she didn't have the strength to take Zach to the library for research. When she explained this to me, I told her not to worry. Zach would have his presentation ready by Monday. I called my buddies I had made plans to see that afternoon and rescheduled for later that evening, taking both boys to the library. Gabe bitched about spending a perfectly good Friday afternoon at the library and promptly took himself to the magazine area, throwing himself in a chair with some surf magazines. I helped Zach pick out a few books and brushed through some of the pages, looking for inspiration. We stayed there for a couple hours, Zach meticulously jotting down notes and Gabe harrumphing about missed waves. When I felt satisfied that he had some headway on the project, I helped gather books to check out and we hit the beach for a quick surf session.

The next day, I took Gabe over to the old neighborhood and checked in with Sylvia and Zach. He had finished pouring through the books and found a few legends he liked. I offered to help him pick the final one he'd focus on to create a board about to present to the class. Immediately I found the story that fit Zach: the Red String of Destiny or Red Thread of Fate. Essentially, it means that there is a magical red thread that connects us to our loved ones. The string can't get tangled and won't break. It will lead us to or bring us back to those we love no matter what happens in our lives. If someone is meant to be a part of our future, the red string will connect us and lead us to each other. Primarily it focuses on soul mates, but other versions mention all of the significant people that make up our lives are attached to red strings connecting to our pinky. If anyone at the age of ten could appreciate, or even grasp this concept of unbreakable bonds with others, it would be Zach. When I pointed out that this was my favorite, he quickly agreed that it was his as well. Gabe, returning from visiting some old friends down the way, was disappointed that Zach wasn't doing his on kung-fu or dragons—this, coming from the boy who drew a bunch of big-breasted goddesses as illustrations on his presentation board!

My Monday class was cancelled, so I stayed in Long Beach an extra night. Mom asked if I could help take Gabe to class because fitting that huge board on the bus would be a hassle. I agreed and loaded up my brother, his poster, and my surfboard into the Bronco. He had his walkie-talkie and used it to tell Zach not to get on his bus because his "presentation board wouldn't even fit on that short bus and might knock a couple 'tards out, dude." I shook my head at my brother's politically incorrect statement as we headed over the Vincent Thomas Bridge to collect Zach. I rang the doorbell of his house and Jeanne slinked out in a tube top and Daisy Dukes. I narrowly avoided her advances and scooted past her to the kitchen. Sylvia looked exhausted and Zach was making her tea. His board was sitting on the table. Where Gabe used his to display buxom babes and hybrid mythological creatures that were featured in his current-favorite video game, Zach's board was a piece of art.

Primarily in black and white, the top held an explanation on the red thread legend. The bottom featured a pretty accurate likeness of Zach, surrounded by the easily-recognizable people in his life. His mother was prominently featured, her sweet face smiling down at her son. Jeanne was there, next to Zach's father. Gabe was there, holding a skateboard next to a girl I recognized from the neighborhood in a t-shirt with a monkey on it, and…me, I was there with a surfboard. I was awed I made it on this boy's important family and friends list, and amazed at the detail-work that had clearly been involved. Tethered to Zach's hands in the image, and highlighted as the only color among the blacks and whites and grays, were thin red strings connecting to each person's hand. It was far beyond most kids his age's capabilities. I'd always known he was a smart boy, but until that point, had no clue about his artistic talent. Zach looked nervously at it as his mother, and she, though ill, beamed at him. I was grateful he had a mom who I had no doubt would encourage him to pursue his artistic talents in the same way she had encouraged me. She looked at me over her mug of tea and smiled, nodding her head at me with a knowing smile when she could see I was flabbergasted. I took the boys to school and hit the beach. Going to my special surfing spot, I spent the solitude grateful for my life and my talent and all the people who had an unbreakable invisible red thread to me.

I finish my note-taking and shut the laptop, stretching. Standing up, I can hear the waves breaking. Today would be perfect to take out my longboard. I change from the underwear and tank I'd slept into some board shorts and head to the kitchen for a quick bite. The Rice Krispies seem like a good idea and I slice a banana into the cereal. I stand at the sink, eating, when a flash of blue in the side yard catches my eye. Someone is waxing one of the several boards there. From this distance I can see he's tan with lean muscles as he rhythmically rubs the wax into the board. What the hell? Wait, is that…_Zach?!_

Having not seen him in four years, I can't be positive without closer inspection. I quietly step outside and approach. Yep, it's Zach—a grown up Zach that has filled out since he was 18. What a trip! Like any character I write, I need the perfect opening line:

"I thought your ghetto ass would be done breaking and entering by now."


	3. Chapter 3

Zach turns around and I'm glad I have my cereal bowl to clutch. _Damn_. He had been a good looking teenager and had the kindness and common sense to not be cocky about it like his best friend. Four years has improved his boyish good looks to Grade-A hottie, and when he smiles his lopsided grin, I about lose it.

"Then change the code, bitch!" he shoots back. I look down and swallow my Krispies and banana. I'll need all my wits about me to verbally spar with my brother's best friend without very obviously coming off as ogling him. _Come on Andrews, snap out of it, this is Zach for chrissakes!_ Memories of various scrapes I'd helped him and Gabe out of come to mind and I focus on that instead of how my body is reacting.

"What are you gonna do, tag the garage next?" I ask, remembering an incident where I had to pick them up from the police station for criminal mischief after being caught with some cans of spray paint. The charges had been dropped and that had been the end of Gabe's dabble into "the arts."

"That, _may not_ go over, you know-with the Pacific Bluff Homeowners' Agreement. Wouldn't wanna set your dad in trouble with the board." Zach shoots back, the subtle wise-ass. While he'd always been astute, _how does Zach know the name of the neighborhood's HOA?_ I wonder. Weird.

"Stepdad," I reply-my standard response when Larry was mistaken for my father.

"I…" he pauses, classic Zach when he gets flustered, "…left my longboard here," he spits out, almost sheepishly admitting this. Like anyone in the family cares. He's been a regular visitor at the house on Ocean Bluffs since we moved here. He clearly knows the code and where the spare key was.

"That's cool. How you doing, man?" I reassure him, giving him the standard solid surfer handshake. The sudden surprise of seeing all-grown-up Zach settled and as my hormones calm down, I slip back into our standard older/younger family friends banter.

"Good. Good, you know?" he replies, looking relieved as well, which lasts all of two seconds as we fall into an awkward silence. Oh God. What to say? I think of the last time I saw him.

"So, I haven't seen you since, like, your graduation. What have you been up to?" I ask. What a dumb question! What 22 year old wants to answer that unless they just graduated an Ivy League School with a six-figure-earning job lined up? _Way to sound _old_, Andrews!_

"Nothing, working, you know? How 'bout you?" he volleys back. _Oh, you know, just broke up with my boyfriend—that's right, I'm gay—and am searching for inspiration as my writing muse apparently took off with my ex, my best friend, and my neighbor. Other than that, life is good! _My inner drama queen thinks.

"Oh, I'm just down for a few weeks. The house is empty; I can enjoy it, clear my head a little bit," I offer, looking away as I speak over the drama queen in my head rattling off my personal business.

"I thought you hated it down here?" he states, looking at me, expecting an answer. How could I respond? LA is a vacuous place to live. You can lose your soul and years of your life. It isn't who I am and it hasn't changed me, but it certainly makes for a nice diversion—a four year one.

"I miss the ocean," an honest enough response. My attempt to show-rather than tell-that I'm still the same Shaun he's known most of his life.

"Dude, you live in LA," he replies, like it was the answer to a question I'd asked.

"I don't paddle out there," I say, matter-of-factly, raising an eyebrow in the hopes that he will read more into that statement than its face value.

"You, wanna go?" he asks, eyes darting toward the ocean.

"Surfing?" a brilliant response—I can't believe I make my living as a writer. If I was my character, I'd kill me off.

"Uh, yeah," Zach replies, and we both laugh awkwardly. Maybe this conversation can be salvaged and I'm not coming off as a total space-case. I set down my cereal, which has lost all of its snap, crackle, pop, and appeal at this point and decide to dust off an old inside joke between us from the another aspect of his Asian culture assignment.

"I suppose there are still a few things I could teach you," I begin, grabbing an old longboard from among the pile. "You will soon learn, butterfly," I joke, hoping he picks up the reference.

"Perhaps Master underestimates Student," he responds, and I should have known he'd remember. "Bring it on, city-boy!" With that smart-ass retort, I know he is fully aware I haven't changed from the guy he's always known. I am more relieved than I should be with this knowledge. We grab some towels and wetsuits along with one of my two duffels of clothes I left in the Subaru and head to the ocean.

Shirtless Zach putting on his wetsuit is even better than Tank Top Zach waxing his board. Seriously, what is wrong with me? This kid is eight years younger than I am, among a pile of other reasons I need to _stop_ thinking of him the way I would some trick I met at a bar. We head into the sea, the water washes away those thoughts and I'm back where I belong, baptized by the waves and innocent once again. The physical activity is exactly what I needed and actually does clear my head. After an intense ride, we pull out and sit on the beach, looking at the ocean as we catch up.

"Good time to come out," Zach begins after drying his face and plopping down onto the sand next to me.

"Yeah, the tide's coming in," another brilliant observation by Shaun Andrews.

"Yeah."

"Hey, where are you living now?" I ask, genuinely curious and eager to catch up.

"With Jeanne in San Pedro…" he answers. "…It's just for now, you know. I'm trying to save up to get my own place, like, you know, as close to my dad and work and stuff," the Zach I remember responds, always carefully protecting those red threads attaching him to others. I want to offer some sort of support for all that he does-all that he has done-for his family.

"Well, you guys are welcome to come out here any time you want," is all I can think of so quickly. Like he doesn't already know that, but it's the thought that counts, right? He takes his eyes off the ocean and looks over at me.

"Just like old times, huh?" he shakes his head, smiling.

"Minus Gabe."

"Right. Hey, you see him much?" he asks, and I wonder how much the blood-brothers have seen each other over the years since I've been away, and how that's affected Zach.

"Oh, a bit. He came down last year with some of his friends," I begin. "Those guys like to party," I finish, realizing that there is a distinct difference in his and Gabe's lives.

"Yeah. You can say that again," he replies, never one to take pity on himself or the circumstances of his life.

"How _is_ Jeanne doing?" I enquire, not all that interested in knowing, but hoping to get more info on what his daily life is like these days.

"You know, the same, I guess," he answers. My inquiry failed. "I try to help her out as much as I can." _ Which I'm sure is more than she deserves _I reply in my head.

"I cannot see her as a mom," I respond, shaking my head, going for complete honesty. He looks at the sand and messes with it, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation. I quickly move to a new topic. "Cody must be getting big, huh?" Zach lights up for the first time in our discussion.

"Yeah, he's five already," he boasts. "It's crazy, you know, time just flies!" His earnest response shows me that Uncle Zach's got a new red string he holds precious.

I decide it's time for Master to impart some knowledge on Student: "Trust me, it only gets faster," I smile, realizing how true that is. It feels like there hasn't been any gap since I saw Zach at graduation, having fallen into our familiar banter with ease, yet also learning about all the big changes four years has brought to his life.

"Yeah, I bet," Zach says back.

We head back to his brown GMC Jimmy and load up the boards. I grab my duffel and head off to change. When I return to his vehicle, I see a blonde girl walking away, heading toward a group of partiers on the beach.

"Do you wanna go grab a beer or do you wanna just take off or what?" Zach asks as I throw my bag in the back of his car. He looks at the retreating girl as he asks and I assume she must be a friend of his. Why not? I'm not ready to head home quite yet.

"Yeah, I'll grab a beer. Sounds good," I respond, the 30 year old in me shaking his head at the idea of hanging out with a bunch of kids at the start of their twenties. We close the Jimmy and head back to the beach.

I am introduced to a few of them and I realize I am definitely out of my element. One of them has a dog, so I grab a Frisbee and take Fido out to play fetch in the surf. Though he's not the most stimulating conversationalist, the dog and I are enjoying ourselves, and it gives me a chance to absorb the day's events. I look back up at the group and see Zach talking to Blondie and finally recognize her as his girlfriend from high school. He looks my way and I toss the Frisbee toward him and run over. He catches it about a foot and a half from the sand, a grin on his face that I'm happy to see.

"Go long," he instructs, ready to play some cut-throat Frisbee.

"You gonna play? You gonna play or are you just gonna sit here and talk shit about me?" I joke, throwing fake punches toward Zach that he dodges as I let them know I'm aware I was the topic of their conversation. Zach takes off with the Frisbee to the surf. Blondie introduces herself.

"Nice throw. I'm Tori," she begins, holding out her hand.

"Oh, I remember you," I reply, proving Zach's not the only one with a good memory. "You were 13 and you had crimped hair, but I remember you," she looks surprised. "I bought you guys wine coolers—I _think_ you puked on my parents' deck," I finish, as I toss the Frisbee back to Zach. I had just turned 21 at the time and Gabe was ecstatic that he now had an unlimited source of booze. Buying the kids sugary shit like Zima, Hard Lemonade, and Smirnoff Ice was definitely a mistake; everyone got sick all over the house. Nine years have gone by since Gabe's party and I still can't look June in the eye when she comes to clean.

"Wow," she laughs, blushing. I don't want to make her feel bad, so I change the subject. "You're still putting up with this guy's shit?" I ask, pointing toward Zach, curious as to whether they're still together or just friends. Her answer is cryptic.

"Well, we're both still here," she replies as I catch the Frisbee again.

"Right on," I say, becoming more engrossed in the game than our conversation. I head to the shore and it's just Zach and me and the Frisbee.

The sun sets and someone starts a bonfire. I'm introduced to some more of the crowd, who accept me with little fanfare—they know Gabe and have heard stories about his brother. We're sitting around the fire, and the apparent ring-leader, Billy I think his name is, is wowing the crowd with some stupid story about women and chickens. What this shit-head knows about women is beyond me but most of the group finds him hilarious. I look into the fire and wonder how I could gracefully exit. Billy turns his attention on me.

"Shaun, right? Aren't you Gabe's bro?" _Duh, you idiot. I was only introduced to you as such 20 minutes ago._ My douche-bag radar goes off big-time on Billy, but I keep it cool.

"Yeah."

"I heard you went all Hollywood, writing movies or something," Billy starts. So clearly he does know who I am. This kid makes Gabe look intelligent and thoughtful. I don't want to even try to explain that being a writer, a successful one who only relies on writing to make money, does so much more than just "writing movies."

"Yeah, or something," I reply, with a small laugh, putting as little into this conversation as I can without coming off as rude. Billy clearly gets it and moves on to Zach, who's sitting next to me.

"So what's the deal? Are you with Tori then?" he asks. Though this kid's a creep, I've got to give him credit—his inquiry is way more direct than mine was. Zach doesn't say anything but sort of shrugs and slightly shakes his head, going for another sip of beer. It's endearing to see, because since he was a little kid, whenever he's been uncomfortable he takes long and frequent sips of whatever drink he's got in front of him. I should play poker with him sometime, as I'm sure that would be his tell. My mind wanders to the idea of strip poker with apparently-single Zach but is immediately brought back to the conversation.

"What are you, a fag? I mean, she's hot." Billy asks. I stand up and walk away from this little shit before saying or doing something I may regret. As I leave, I can hear him. "So it's cool if I move in on that then?" _Run Tori. You seem like a nice girl and this kid is a skeeze._ I approach the shore, drinking my beer. I should have just gone home. I hear someone approach on my left. It's Zach.

"Swell's comin' in," he begins. I can't decide if he's trying to smooth over an awkward moment or is just used to people dropping "fag" like it's no big deal. Even Gabe has stopped using it as an insult, so I'm doubtful Zach would be okay with it. He probably didn't even notice, so I go along with the conversation.

"Yeah it looks that way," I change the subject. "Trip seeing Tori."

"Yeah, I bet."

"You guys have been together for years."

"Yeah we're just taking a little break right now," he begins, looking at me and then out at the ocean before finishing. "She's my best friend, other than Gabe. It's all good." I get the distinct impression he's not quite sure what he and Tori are to each other right now. He flips the topic to my dating life. "You dating anyone?"

"No, just broke up," is as far as I'll go regarding that situation.

"Yeah? Is _that_ why you're really down here?" Trust Zach to pick up on the truth. Sometimes I wish Gabe's best friend wasn't so intuitive, though I am positive his intuition has kept Gabe out of ridiculous amounts of trouble he would have gotten into on his own.

"Naw, naw naw, no," I quickly reply, then laughing, realize why bother? "Yeah, actually, it is. I moved out of our place and, uh, my new lease doesn't start until the end of the month," I calmly state, my inner drama queen rallying against that, wanting blood.

"That's cool," Zach replies. I take a swig of beer and his phone rings. He answers and it's obviously his sister, drunk. Jeanne's left her son somewhere and expects Zach to take care of it, which of course, he does. Watching him, I realize he is probably one of the most decent people I have ever known. He ends the phone call. "I gotta go."

"Alright."

"Tori says she needs a ride so…" he begins, and I decide to be the one person right now who's not a burden on him.

"Oh, that's cool. I'll, uh, catch a ride from someone," I say, looking back up at the kids at the bonfire, quickly assessing that I would rather call a cab than ask Billy for a ride. "It was great riding today," I start, absolutely meaning it. "Alright man," and we slap each other a low-five.

"Hey it was good seeing you man. Yeah, fun," he says and then heads back to the group. Coming from Zach, who doesn't speak much, I know he actually means it, and I'm glad to have brought some (burden-free) fun to his day.

"Okay cool," I reply to his retreating back. As he and Tori head off, I call a cab and head to the parking lot to meet it as soon as they pull out. Minus these last 20 minutes, today was much better than I had expected when I woke up.


	4. Chapter 4

"**I tend to prefer the shelter of fiction."**

** Armistead Maupin, American Novelist**

I ask the cabbie to take the scenic route and hit up all my old haunts on the drive home. Here and there, I notice stenciled industrial city-scenes and immediately recognize the artist. I imagine Zach leaving little bits of himself, and of the grittier San Pedro, throughout Long Beach. I'm glad to see that he's still being creative—his art is the one thing we didn't discuss today, and I hope to rectify that before I leave.

The cab pulls away and I enter the house, realizing one third of my stuff is still sitting in the back of Zach's car. I guess we'll have to get together again soon before I head back to LA-LA Land. I smile at the thought, embracing the fact that I had a fun time today getting reacquainted with the now-adult Zach. The thought of heading back to "real life" reminds me that I'd planned on getting some writing in while here. I grab my laptop and throw myself on my bed, planning to first go over what I wrote over the past two days to see if any of it was good. I open the document and begin to read it. I was obviously in a very dark bad place; it's absolute crap.

"Did I write this shit?" I ask myself, seriously bummed none of it is even salvageable. "Oh my God," I sigh, shutting the laptop cradling my face in my hands.

Writing is clearly not on tonight's agenda, so I decide to do some furniture evaluation for my new place. I look around my bedroom. The entertainment center is the first thing I see that will easily fit in my Subaru, but it will definitely need a good cleaning-out. I open it up to find that at some point, Gabe used it as a storage locker, as a bunch of his crap is in it. I pull out a walkie-talkie and some other stuff, along with a DVD, _Skate This! With Gabe & Zach_. I remember Gabe mentioning making this at some point when he was in high school. He'd said he wanted a demo reel for some sort of _Jackass_-style show he was convinced would make him famous. And because they were Frick and Frack, Zach joined in.

I pull the DVD out of the case and put it in the player, turning it on. Grabbing the walkie-talkie, I plop back on my bed enjoying the nostalgia and, if I were to be honest with myself, enjoying watching Zach on the screen. It's clear he's got way fewer responsibilities at the point in his life that this was filmed. He looks so young; this is the Zach I remember. A scene where he shows off some road rash on his knee and Gabe pretends to lick it plays and a tiny zing shoots to my stomach. What the hell? Am I jealous of something that happened at least five years ago, didn't mean anything, and is actually pretty gross when you think about it? After spending one day together I am _not_ crushing on him. He's too young, has too much on his plate, is my baby brother's best friend, is straight, and I'm sure there's a laundry list of other reasons why this can't even be true, but here I am, watching this damn DVD. It's times like these I wish I could talk with my best friend, but he's probably too busy rimming my ex right now.

"Hello, hello-o-o, is anyone out there? Hello-o-o, is anyone out there?" I ask the universe via walkie-talkie, wondering if this thing is even on.

"Hell-o-o-o-o! Sha-un!" someone growls back, scaring the crap out of me, as I almost drop the radio.

"Who the fuck is this?" I ask, slightly creeped out.

"Master does not know his own student…" Zach teases. Seriously what the fuck? How is it as soon as I realize I shouldn't be thinking of him (even as I'm watching home movies of him), that we're suddenly talking, and on a walkie-talkie of all things? The writer in me wouldn't put so many coincidences so close together because the audience wouldn't find it believable. I stop thinking about my writing and focus on what he's saying. "…Student is ashamed. Master gets o-o-o-ld!" and now he'd just being a punk, charming, but a punk! "Where'd you find these?" he asks. _Well Zach, since we parted ways a few hours ago, you've been on my mind and God decided-since I don't have your phone number to call you like a normal stalker-to bless me with a walkie-talkie direct-line to you because, apparently, I've been a very, _very_ good boy._

"Uh, dude, they were just lying around the house," I reply over Sassy Shaun in my head.

"Man, Gabe and I used to stay up for hours on these," he counters back, and I can hear in his voice the nostalgia he's beginning to feel too.

"I can't believe that these go all the way to your house," I say, pretty amazed, and grateful.

"All the way to the ghetto! Yeah they were the latest technology back then," he starts. "I think your dad bought them for Gabe in an airport when he missed a Christmas one year."

"Stepdad," I reply. "Yeah I remember that year. I think he got me a _talking dart board,_" I respond wishing that anyone else could understand the humorous-at-this-point-in-my-life thoughtlessness that went into the gift. Gabe got something he could actually use and clearly had. I got something that never came out of its packaging before being boxed up for charity.

"Ha ha ha! That sucks!" of course, Zach sees the ridiculousness of the gift. I should have figured. Considering he's probably had the other walkie-talkie the entire time Gabe's owned them and never once played darts at our house. I think back to what I had wanted to talk to him about.

"Oh hey, I uh, I saw some of your tags today. They're sweet," I begin, wanting to know how his art's progressed over the years. I'm betting since Sylvia's passing that support for his artistic gift has been pretty non-existent.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, you've got that, uh, crane thing going on. Looks cool," I continue. "Glad to see someone's doing their artwork."

"Yeah, sometimes," he says, and I realize that's about all I'll get out of him about his art right now. I watch my brother and Zach wrestle on film, and get slightly hot and bothered.

"It was uh, it was nice riding out there today," I tell him again. Even if I wasn't grappling with the fact that I'm seriously jonesing for this boy, it's the truth.

"Yeah," he says and then my walkie-talkie makes a blip-beep noise.

"Uh, what's that?" I enquire, wondering if he heard it too.

"Your battery's probably gonna run out. Probably because it hasn't been replaced in ten years," he answers, and I hold down the 'talk' button to see if that helps. While I do this, the DVD shows Zach messing up on a skate trick, which is adorable. The music track on the DVD is upbeat and loud and he can hear it since I'm not saying anything. "What are you listening to?"

"Um, nothing," I guiltily reply. Oh God this is awkward. I'm sure he recognizes the music and knows exactly what I'm listening to, and watching! Thankfully the radio blip-beeps again and dies. I set it down and continue to watch _Skate This!_, eventually falling asleep to their goofy antics.

I wake up the next morning, totally rested for the first time in a long time, to the DVD on loop, still playing. It's the scene where they're wrestling and my muse shows back up finally. Just because my knowledge of fighting consists of essentially nothing, that doesn't mean I can't add my own flair to a fight scene! I put on my blue robe, run down to the cellar and grab a bottle of red, pour myself a glass and get to work.

"He's a fighter, he's totally a fighter," I tell myself, practicing some moves I saw on the home movie. "He's gonna kick his ass…" I continue, looking at myself in the mirror. I see a scarf that belongs to my mother hanging next to the mirror and I grab it; just because you're an assassin, doesn't mean you can't accessorize. I envision the scarf as an ascot around the neck of my character. "But he wants to look _good_ kicking his ass." I sit down back at the computer, a smile on my face as I prepare to put out a lot of writing today. Grabbing my bubble pipe, another accessory for the well-heeled mercenary, I conclude, "He's wearin' a sweet suit, and he's gonna kick his ass."

The doorbell rings. Of course. Right in the middle of my fanciful burst of creativity, I'm interrupted. I quickly debate whether to ignore it, but it rings again. I open the door in my fancy get-up, and there's Zach. Why is this happening? I get the impression I won't be as productive as I had anticipated and I lean against the doorframe, putting the pipe in my mouth and blowing bubbles. A spurt of laughter erupts from his mouth as he notices my outfit.

"Ha! Dude it's breakin' overhead, let's roll to the 'bu!" he offers, giving me a great reason to play hooky (like I need one).

"I'm workin'," I reply, though a day-trip to Malibu with Zach sounds about 284% better than a day with imaginary ass-kicking fighters, even well-dressed ones.

"Really?" he looks down, clapping his hands together then swinging them apart. I'm liking this playful Zach, especially after he had to cut his fun short last night to bail out Jeanne. "That's too bad," he continues, with a charming grin. "Alright, I'll see you later then," he finishes, pretending to leave. What am I doing?

"Alright—hold on!" I blurt out, like the outcome was actually going to be me letting him take off alone-besides, my gear's already in his car. "I'll come."

"Um, you _might_ wanna change first," he flippantly responds pointing at my awesome attire. Brat. I give him a scathing look only the fanciest of assassins can achieve.

"Come on dude, let's go!" he responds with a clap and a smile. As I turn away to change, I realize I'm in way over my head.


	5. Chapter 5

"**I felt it shelter to speak to you."  
Emily Dickenson, American Poet**

As I gather a wetsuit and towel, I run through our exchange in my head. I definitely felt a flirty vibe in our back-and-forth, but I dismiss it. I need to stop projecting my own thoughts and feelings on his actions. I vow to behave as nothing more than his best friend's big brother, because that's what I am. Pining for straight boys isn't something I've done in years and I refuse to waste time doing it now. As a reminder to myself, I grab an old hoodie from when I used to come home from CalArts on the weekends to surf out of my closet to wear. This is who I am to Zach, who I've always been, and who I will always be: a big-brother-mentor figure in his life. I head back downstairs and hop in the Jimmy, looking forward to the physical exertion that surfing will provide.

The drive to Malibu is relatively quiet. I point out a few of Zach's tags that I had seen in the cab last night, and he points out others along the way. I'm seriously impressed with the detail work they include, considering they're made from a stencil and spray paint, and when he does them, it has to happen in seconds if he doesn't want to get caught.

"I'd love to go out and do that sometime. It must be such a rush!" I enthuse, showing him I'm still supportive of his creativity.

"Dude, you're welcome to, you know, come with me," Zach replies. This means a lot—he's usually so reserved and secretive about his art. "Are you gonna be able to run though, Mr. Hollywood, you know, in case the cops come?" he asks.

"Master is skilled in the art of ducking out of trouble. Spent many years in the ghetto before Student came into life," I remind him with a smile.

"Ahh, Student was worried that easy life of comfort has made Master _soft_," he quips. _Jesus Christ, kid, don't push me about hard and soft. I'm really trying to not full-on flirt with you, but you're not making this easy, _my honest self wants to reply. I roll my eyes at him as we pull up to what is clearly the most popular place in Malibu to surf.

"Oh! Dude it's a fucking circus out there!" I lament, seeing literally dozens of other like-minded surfers already enjoying the day's waves.

"Ha ha ha! I'll protect you from the big burly!" Zach teases me, and instantly I imagine his arms around me while we're surrounded by bears. _Seriously, can we have one exchange that's not laced with homoerotic subtext? Is that too much to ask?_

"Go," I direct, pointing further down the highway, refusing to look in his direction and keeping my eyes on the road. "I got a better spot…"

"Pussy!" he chides, and the image of us among big hairy men is gone, thank God!

"Better spot," I continue. Now, to find it. I look out his window but his smiling profile is proving slightly distracting as we drive down the coast.

"It's nice," he comments pointing out some awesome waves.

"Yeah," I reply, as I'm looking at the curve of his cheek bone, the shadow his eyelashes make, the point where his lips meet each other. _It _is_ nice._

"It's breaking!" he's so enthusiastic that I snap out of my visual inventory of his features. I'm glad I came along today instead of wasting the day indoors. Now I just need to find that road.

"Just gotta figure out where the little in-road is," I reply, searching for a little marker sign that could have disappeared in the past four years. "Uh, oh! Right there, right there, right there!" I should have paid more attention to the curves of the road than the ones on his face.

"Careful," he says, preparing to make a u-turn. "You should've told me sooner."

"Sorry." I answer back, suddenly nervous to bring him here. I've always considered this place my sanctuary, and never shared it with anyone. But for some reason, introducing it to Zach feels right. I almost want to give it to him as a gift, his own place to get away from the pressures and drama and crazy shit that make up life. More so than offering the use of our house, which he already has, I want him to have this.

"This is rad!" he pronounces as we pull into the parking area of my special sacred surfing spot. I did the right thing.

We pull out our gear and are stowing our clothes and stuff that can't get wet back into the car when Zach grabs his cell phone.

"Hey, uh, can I get your number. You know, so I don't disturb you when you're, uh, playing dress up next time?" he asks, and it's so endearing, I have to smile. I grab my phone and give him my number. He's smiling too, in a shy kind of way and I tell myself (yet again) to stop reading into it. He calls my phone so I now have his number. I save it as a contact and go back into big-brother mode.

"Excellent idea, dude. I have no clue where the spare batteries are for the walkie-talkie. And it doesn't exactly _go_ with any of my _dress up_ clothes," I play along. We head down to the beach.

"Sorry I never told you and Gabe about this place, man," I apologize as we navigate down the rocks to the coast. "I just didn't want it to turn into the remnants of your keggers every Sunday morning. This is my place I used to get away to and come and just think," I explain.

"And surf?" He gets it.

"And surf."

"Let's go."

We head into the ocean and ride the waves. He does tricks I can't on my longboard and it's obvious that Student has surpassed Master at some point in the four years I've been away. After a couple hours, the waves have calmed down and we head back to the car via a narrow path that barely fits two men and their boards.

"So, you still thinking about applying to art school?" I ask, hoping I don't come off sounding like a nag.

"Mmm, I do street art now," he explains, and I can tell there's something he's not saying. "It's cool though, you know? What are you working on?" he flips the focus on me, and now I'm the one avoiding absolute honesty. We bump into each other every few feet and it's distracting so I barely realize that I'm opening up to him in a way I normally wouldn't have.

"Uh, a book," I reply. Usually I would have focused on a script to talk about, especially as I currently don't even have a topic yet for my next novel. Though I get hired to work on several screenplays, creatively speaking, it's my writing for books that feeds my soul.

"Oh, what it's been like, uh, three years since the last one, right?" he quizzes. I'm surprised he knows, as it wasn't exactly a _New York Times_ bestseller. I write to a niche audience and though I have a loyal following, I don't expect all my friends and family to read my work. Gabe had a freak-out the first time he saw what I was working on. "Is it really long or something?"

"Fuck off," I shoot back, as I consider bringing up the art thing again just to get back at him for being a punk. You can't schedule good creativity and he knows this.

"You sure didn't leave much out of the last one," he snaps back. He's studying my face, intently. If he wanted to surprise me, he succeeded. I grin at the smirk on his face; he's obviously proud of himself for shocking Master.

"You read it?" I spit out, blown away by his admission. Unless he's dim—and I am well aware he's not—he has to know, or at least suspect, that I'm gay. There were three different homosexual storylines in just that book and lots of man-on-man scenes.

"Who knew there'd be so much drama inside the gates of Pacific Bluffs?" he acknowledges. I suddenly realize how he knew the name of the beach house's HOA, as it was a plot point in the book. "I never knew," he continues. Okay, he must be cool with the gay thing. I am relieved, and kind of turned on at the idea that he read my book.

"You never really know what's happening inside," I quip, a promotional line from the book's back cover.

"Yeah, that's what I liked about it," he replies. I go through the story in my head, wondering if he sees the parallels between it and my life.

"I _did_ embellish a little bit. It _is_ fiction," I explain.

"You changed a couple of names?" he hits back. I can't help but laugh.

"When did you read it?" _Where did you find it? What did you think? Have you read my other books?_ Now that I know that he knows, I have tons of questions. But I don't want to scare him or be that creepy-needy-author-who-wants-your-validation.

"When it came out."

"Huh, funny, Gabe never mentioned anything," I reply, perplexed. If anyone was going to tell me that someone I knew read my work it would be Gabe. I'm shocked I never received a call from him saying I'd scarred his best friend for life from reading it.

"I, never told him," Zach knows his friend too well. "Why would he tell you?" and we get to the heart of this conversation, which is going surprisingly smoothly. He's looking at me, waiting for the answer.

"Ah, I just never knew that you knew about me," I say, honestly, as I look at him. He looks down, then away, changing the subject.

"What's your new one about?" he enquires. So this is a little uncomfortable for him. Good to know. It's a little awkward for me too. I'm 30 years old and have been "out" for several years. My mom and Larry don't disapprove or anything, but it's not something I make a big deal about in front of or around them. Gabe's had more exposure to my life over the past few years because he would meet boyfriends when he'd visit me in LA. He's supportive but "the gay thing" occasionally still squicks him out, especially when he goes through my stuff, but I'm a firm believer you get what you deserve when you snoop.

"Uh, still trying to figure that out. Don't really have a subject yet," I explain. "But I'll get it back," I finish. With my muse returning this morning, barring any more impromptu surf days, I plan to place more of my focus on the book.

"I hope so. You're good," he replies, so sincerely. His validation means more than it should.

"You really liked it?" A lump develops in my throat, and he bumps into me again.

"Yeah. You hungry?" another subject change by Zach.

"Oh, yeah," I respond, telling myself to snap out of it and return to the conversation instead of practically tearing up over the fact that he likes my work. "You wanna go to The Shack or something?" I ask.

"Yeah definitely," and I know we're cool. We load the boards into the vehicle and head down to the hole-in-the-wall eatery known to all as The Shack.

I order a corn dog and a bottle of beer. Zach gets some fries and a glass of water and we chow down. As we're finishing, we pick up our conversation.

"So, how long you stayin' around?" Zach asks.

"I'm gonna be here for a while," I explain. "I was supposed to go to Barcelona to meet a friend next month but, uh, I'm kinda broke," and for the first time since the end of our relationship, my inner drama queen isn't ready to clobber Rich over the head for ruining my summer plans.

"You should ask Larry for the cash," he replies. I'm grateful he didn't refer to him as my dad, but he should know better than to even suggest that!

"No, no. That's not my style," I assure him. "Have you ever been to Europe?"

"Uh, I've been to Florida once, and, that time your parents took me to Mexico…" Zach counters, the smart ass.

"Ah, yes," I interject as I smile.

"…that's about it," he finishes.

"That's right, that's right," I conclude.

"I don't travel much," a simple statement, but I know he would never cite his family as the thing that holds him back.

"You should go, man," I encourage, and think of all the fabulous places I've discovered in my travels that I'd encourage him to check out or take him to if we were to go together.

"I'd like to, someday," he admits.

"I mean, just for the art," the concerned-about-his-future family friend in me insists on fighting for the potential I know he has.

"Yeah," he ends the conversation as his phone buzzes. He grabs it and looks at the screen.

"Go ahead, take it," I assure him.

"Nah, it's cool," he brushes it off. It must be Tori, as if it was Jeanne and potentially about Cody, he'd have answered.

"What, you guys are like, in limbo or something?" I ask, still curious about the state of their relationship. I seriously need to get a life. I've had crushes before, but this is just silly. I've never had one hit so hard or so fast, or be so hopeless and I'm getting too old for this shit.

"Yeah."

"I'm no good at that," is the only thing I can come up with as I mentally tell myself off for being into someone who won't ever return the feelings.

"Takes a little practice," he quietly replies. His subtle humor is one of many things I'm finding very attractive in all-grown-up Zach, and I laugh. He smirks as he finishes his fries. I drain my beer and we head out.


	6. Chapter 6

The trip from The Shack back to the Ocean Drive mansion is quiet. I can feel something has shifted in the dynamics of the day. Is it that I know Zach's officially single (or as single as someone who's "in limbo" can be)? Does it have to do with the fact that I know that he knows I'm gay and apparently has for a long time, yet he has no qualms spending days at a time with me? Not that I think he'd be homophobic, but even Gabe can't go too long with some wise-crack about his "Princess Big Brother." Either way I appreciate that he's not scared shitless that I'm gonna jump his bones like so many straight dudes fear. Like there's not enough totally hot gay guys out there who would invite my attentions. I sigh, looking out the window to the ocean, like I wouldn't jump his bones given _any_ provocation.

He looks over at me and gives his half-smile. My heart drops into the very bottom-most part of my stomach. _Stop it Andrews. Just stop it._ I mentally berate myself as I smile back.

"You got plans for tonight?" he asks.

"Yeah, uh, hot plans, with a six-pack…" I begin. His eyes jump from the road to my face and he's full-on paying attention. "…of beer." I end the statement. He looks, _relieved_? I ignore my mind that is clearly enjoying its time in the gutter. "I mean, no, no. I have no plans beyond perhaps drinking myself silly," _in an attempt to get my mind off of you._

"That's cool, that's cool," he responds offhandedly, putting his eyes back on the road. "Jeanne and Cody are spending the evening with Dad watching movies," he continues, "_Madagascar,_ or, you know, something…" he trails off. What is he saying, exactly? So he's free tonight? Does he want to hang out some more? Or is he asking my opinion on a movie about a bunch of zoo animals? I take a breath, and make a leap.

"Well, if you'd rather enjoy long-neck bottles over giraffes, you're welcome to come chill," I offer, inhaling quickly and holding my breath.

"Uh, okay, sure, sure," he replies and I exhale.

"Right on," I assure him. "Let's stop at the store so I can stock up. With Gabe staying at the house before, the beer reserve's been heavily depleted."

"I, uh, probably helped with that," he ducks his head, admitting this with a slight smile. I smile back.

The grocery we pull into is next door to hardware store that's going out of business. As we exit the market with a few cases of beer, he points toward the closing store.

"You mind?" he asks.

"No, not at all," I reply, curious as to what he wants from the store. "Go on in. I'll load this stuff and meet you there," I finish. My mind is racing with all sorts of kinky things that can be purchased at a hardware store. My mind clearly isn't planning to leave the gutter any time soon. For once I decide to stop scolding it and indulge, imagining Zach "handcuffed" to a bed with zip ties while I trail kisses down his torso, unable to move. Fantasy Zach doesn't want to move and is moaning and my stomach drops as my jeans get tighter and I break a slight sweat. Oh God I have to stop this. I'm not normally into much kink but there is just something about this boy that regardless of the situation, I can take it from 'G' to 'PG-13' to 'NC-17' in seconds.

As I enter the store, I begin to wonder if I've always had a thing for him. Considering I've known him since he was at an age where footie-pajamas were acceptable sleepwear, this trips me up. I'm not one of those guys who swims in barely-legal territory, ever. It's not my style, and I prefer my men with good heads on their shoulders, bright futures on the horizon, and their priorities in a row. Not that this list doesn't apply to Zach. The good head and priorities are easily there. And his future potential is obvious and visible to anyone who spends time with him. I breathe a sigh of relief that I'm not an absolute creeper. If I met him on the streets, a total stranger, he'd turn my head, even if he is a bit younger than I'm normally attracted to. Life made him more mature than his 22 years. Nope, this infatuation with my brother's best friend is all new, within the past two days. My last feelings for Zach before meeting him again yesterday were an immense amount of pride during graduation (mixed in with gratitude that Gabe passed as well; I'm sure with Zach's help), and a lot of sympathy from far away when Sylvia passed.

I find him in the paint aisle. Of course. I'm the jerk who's getting excited sexualizing this boy and he's opening up about his art. _Nice, Andrews, nice._ He's crouched down, going through cans of spray paint on the bottom shelf, and his hoodie sweatshirt is riding up his back, with his jeans riding low, I can see his boxers peeking out and a band of sun kissed skin is exposed. My mouth dries up and I'm officially ogling. He looks up at me and I dart my head away, afraid I've been caught.

"Uh, I'm gonna get some paint. It's on, sale, you know?" he says, and I can see by his flushed face, that I was definitely seen gawking at his backside. I'm grateful we already bought all that beer, I'm gonna drown myself in it alone because I'm sure he's gonna bail on hanging out tonight, and I don't blame him. He grabs a can of brown spray paint, along with black and a few others. Then heads to the house paints, where he gets white. I wonder where the trash bags are, so I can go suffocate myself and be done with it. We get to the end of the aisle. Suddenly he turns back around.

"Red, I need red," he proclaims. The color I will always associate with Zach. He grabs a can of red, and then as we approach the check out, he asks, "Uh, wanna do some tagging tonight?" And I'm flabbergasted he's not desperately trying to ditch me as soon as possible. This boy is next to impossible to get a read on, and it's making me crazy!

"After all that, uh, surfing, I'm afraid I'd be no good at dodging cops tonight," I answer back with an apologetic smile. In reality, if he's crouching down to paint, my jeans will be so tight that I won't be able to walk normally, let alone run.

"That's cool, I'd hate to have to call Gabe to come bail us out because you got tripped up," he replies with a not-so-apologetic grin of his own.

"That would definitely be a first," I conclude, considering I'm usually the one getting Baby Brother out of jams. We continue on with funny Gabe stories on the ride home. While they're hilarious, and there are so many of them, it's nice to share them with someone who cares as much about my brother as I do, unlike other friends and boyfriends who didn't understand that though Gabe comes off as a stereotypical surfer bro, he does have a sensitive side and is a good person. Most people don't see beyond the exterior but Zach got it at eight, and after punching him. I wonder if my crazy-strong and instant attraction to Zach is because I know he's more than just a hot piece of ass.

We get to the beach house and carry the beer inside. I'm still reflecting on this revelation and it's definitely starting to make some sense. We each grab a beer and pop them open, continuing various anecdotes, and eventually begin telling stories that the other one already knows. But instead of being bored, I'm intensely interested in getting Zach's opinions on various situations. His perspective is unique and gives me new insight on my brother. It's comfortable and easy and unlike any date I've been on—NOT that this is a date at all, because I know it's not. I just can't seem to get that "date vibe" out of my head. But he's still here, so I must be doing something right. We enjoy more beers and stories, and eventually move out to the terrace.

The sun has set and there are several empty bottles surrounding the double chaise lounge we've migrated to. The alcohol has loosened up everything, our Gabe stories are getting more and more outrageous, and our laughter is louder and more boisterous. I never realized how many times the blood-brothers had run-ins with the law. The way Zach tells it, they're familiar with most of the local cops. I shake my head and relate another story.

"…And he drives right through the stop sign, and out into some field," I finish a story about when my brother got drunk on our father's parents' farm and decided that he could drive a tractor. "He totally passed out," I finish, heaving from laughter as I clap Zach on his shoulder.

"He must've been wasted, man!" Zach replies, giggling as he takes another sip. He's been doing his nervous drink thing for the past 20 minutes, and I wonder why. The space between us has also gotten smaller and we're bumping into each other quite a bit. He doesn't seem to mind.

"He was totally hammered. He's a fucking idiot. But he's my brother, and I love him," I conclude. The beer is definitely allowing me to be more physically demonstrative than I normally would be, and he doesn't seem to care or get bothered by it.

"And my best friend," he adds, "Cheers!" and then clinks our bottles together.

"Cheers," I salute back. His bottle is almost empty. As is mine. "Oh, man," I look to my bottle, debating. If I drink much more, I'm going to be in a not-so-responsible-for-my-actions kind of place, and the way I'm feeling about Zach right now, that's not the best idea. But I also don't want to send him away or end this night that's gone so well.

"I'm gonna get another," he says, after taking the final swig. "You?"

"Mmm-hmm, okay," I agree, determined to take it easy on this one. While he's in the kitchen getting more, I look around, trying to figure out what I'm even doing. I keep getting the feeling I'm getting mixed-signals from Zach. But I'm not sure if they're real or just a figment of my over-active imagination. While I'm looking down, I see his sketchpad sticking out of his bag on the ground. I feel (and perhaps it's the beer telling me this), that since he allowed me to shop with him for paint and we're going to do some street art, that going through his private sketch pad is totally acceptable—or maybe I'm just channeling Gabe at this point. Zach returns with two freshly-opened beers.

"Here you go."

"Thanks, brother," I am barely able to speak; I am so engrossed in the pages. The street art's awesome, but the stuff in this notebook is powerful and raw and real. "Wow."

"Whoa-what are you doing?" he exclaims trying to close the book and pull it out of my grasp, and I realize I've invaded his sacred space, but I have to see more.

"Easy dude, it's okay," I try to calmly explain without freaking him out while also keeping it out of his reach. "I wanna look at it." I can tell he's uncomfortable with the idea, but he doesn't try to take it away again. The booze is definitely making me do this.

"No one ever looks at that," he confides, taking a huge sip of beer. And he's doing his awkward-drink-because-I'm-uncomfortable thing in double time. I flip the page, and want to cry at the hauntingly sad beauty of the image I see.

"Wow, is that Cody?" I enquire. This picture has very few colors, but lots of red lines coming out from the subject. _Oh, Zach._

"Yeah," he won't even look at me. He takes another big sip of beer. He'll be done with it before I finish going through his notebook at this point. It breaks my heart he's so nervous and guarded about his art, because he's so, _so _talented.

"A sad Cody," I can only offer my assessment as a way to calm him down and express my appreciation of his art. His head shoots up and he looks at me, his eyes searching my face for answers.

"You could tell?" Of course I could. My heart breaks more for him; he has to realize he's got an amazing gift. Without Sylvia's encouragement, I can only imagine what kind of support he's lacked. I don't know how to apologize for not being a more supportive friend over the past few years, so I continue my critique.

"Yeah. And how you darkened it around his head," I add. "This is incredible." He takes another sip and then sets the beer down, and I'm grateful he's becoming more comfortable, so I go on. "And there's no toys in his room," he leans back over from setting the bottle on the ground, his chest up against my knee cap. Regardless of my review, this is getting distracting, and I can't think of what else I can say. "Wow. That's awesome," I conclude.

"Yeah, he'd just gotten scolded. He was trying to understand why, so he came into my room. He hasn't left yet. It's the only place he could sleep," and this feels like a deeply personal confession that he's just shared. No wonder there are so many red threads of color surrounding young Cody. Zach's commitment to his nephew is awe-inspiring. "Okay, enough," he finishes, grabbing the book back, clearly done with confessions and raw emotions.

I try to change the tone by pretending to hold onto it, but then let go, laughing. I chuck the side of his head with my elbow in an attempt to let him know I'm kidding. He sets the book down and gets into it, playfully punching my arm. I punch back. And we're wrestling. The Gabe/Zach wrestling scene on _Skate This!_ has nothing on Shaun/Zach right now. I flip him on his back holding him down, quickly realizing I'm getting a little too excited about this game and let him go. We're both laughing and his hands and arms are flailing about trying to get a hold on anything. He gets a good dig into my neck.

"Ow, oh, ow, ow! Adam's apple," I call an end to wrestling, and as he pulls his hand away, it gently brushes my throat then my hand as I bring my arm in. People talk about sparks, and I've never felt that. But these touches are unlike others I've ever experienced. While I still wouldn't classify them as "sparks" moments, I can definitely feel an almost-electric current from where his hand touched me shoot to the pit of my stomach. He _has_ to be doing this on purpose. I can't be projecting all of this on him, even with my writer's imagination.

"I'm trashed," he pants, smiling.

"The cops are definitely coming," I reply, referring to the shenanigans we'd been discussing all evening, allowing him to add drunken wrestling to that list. Instead of agreeing, he looks at me. Eye to eye, with no filters or responsibilities or judgment, all I see is desire. I remember the first time I kissed a boy when I was 17. I'm sure my eyes mirrored what his look like now: an I-don't-know-why-I-want-this-but-if-I-don't-do-this-now-I-might-explode kind of look. The beer in me says go for it, but this is _Zach_ for chrissakes. I give him one more chance to tell me to back off, grabbing at the zipper on his hoodie, resting my hand on his panting chest. Nothing. This is it. I pull myself up, and we're still eye to eye, his hands above his head, not making any sort of move to push me away. I'm glad I grabbed some gum at the grocery store so his first experience will taste like beer and spearmint instead of Jack Daniels and smoke like mine did. I want this to be good for him. If anyone deserves amazing, Zach does. I lean in closer, and he closes his eyes.

I put my hand on his cheek and slide it down his neck and go for it. A small, quick kiss. I pull away. He hadn't refused it! _Oh God what the hell am I doing?_ I ask myself. I go to kiss him again, running my hand back up his cheek and hold his jaw. Three kisses in quick succession. He answers each of them back as I move my hand to his chest. His heart is beating so rapidly. _I _did this_ to him. I _am doing this_ to him._ I excite him the same way he excites me because my heart is beating just as fast. I pull back slightly, so slightly, and his lips follow mine, making our fifth kiss initiated by him. I bump my face against his, forehead to forehead for a second, amazed that this has happened. His eyes are still closed. I lie back down, grabbing onto his zipper, maintaining some sort of connection to him while I begin to digest what just happened. I look at the stars and wonder how tonight's events will affect tomorrow.


	7. Chapter 7

Zach doesn't say a thing. Eventually the tension in his body dissipates and I assume he's fallen asleep. He turns to his side so that he's facing away from me, and I let go of his shirt. Unsure of whether my kisses answered questions he had about himself, or awakened new feelings he'd been unaware of, I am suddenly afraid that that I may have royally fucked up. It's not like I expected him to declare his undying love and devotion, but were my kisses so unimpressive that he had _no_ comment? The ramifications of coming on to my brother's best friend set in. I'll feel terrible if I ruin Gabe's strongest and longest-lasting friendship. I wonder if he can salvage their relationship if I go another four or more years without visiting. This line of thinking isn't doing me any good, but with no comment from Zach to gauge his reaction, paranoia is setting in. I resolve to have an open and honest conversation with him in the morning, when we're both sober, but it's still hours before I fall asleep.

I replay the kisses in my head over and over. He kissed back_. He kissed back!_

I must have fallen asleep at some point, because what seems like seconds later, I wake up the next morning, huddled in my hoodie and still groggy from too many beers. I am definitely getting too old to sleep outdoors and on my side. Zach's no longer to my left on the double chaise and I wonder if he's inside or has taken off. I sit up and stretch, the joints in my back pop as I reach out toward the rising sun. I swing my legs off the chaise, knocking over beer bottles. The clanking of them hitting the deck makes my head hurt. I notice that Zach's bag, which had been on my side of the lounge, is gone, and I know he's not here. _Fuck_. I get up, avoiding knocking over more bottles and carefully tiptoe over the rest on my way inside.

Considering it's just after dawn, I decide to call him in a few hours. I head to my room and the comfort of my bed. I take my jeans off and leave them on the floor next to my sweatshirt. As I crawl in between the sheets, my elbow hits the walkie-talkie. I can't believe it's only been, like, 36 hours since we talked on them. Grateful we'd exchanged numbers because I don't have the patience to find batteries for it, I set it on the floor next to my bed and fall back asleep.

I wake up to sunshine streaming through the windows and across the bed. Looking at the clock, I see it's just after noon and I can't believe I slept through the entire morning. Luckily getting up and out of bed is easier now than it was at dawn. I debate whether to call Zach now, then eat, or eat and then call him. My grumbling stomach answers for me (though it could just be nerves), and I decide to eat. I grab an apple because it's easy and I don't have to prepare it, and sit at the table. Seriously, I am 30 years old. Why am I acting like a goddamn teenager about this? I reflect on this as I bite into the apple, letting its juice drip down my chin, just as child-like as I'm acting. I feel like a kid dealing with this crush, this situation, this whatever-the-hell-it-is for the first time, because it _feels_ like the first time. Not quite like the first time, but simply kissing Zach feels more significant than times when I woke up next to a one-night-stand, or waited for a guy to call, or made the first few tenuous steps before starting a relationship with someone.

The world's slowest apple-eating by Shaun Andrews commences 34 minutes from first bite. I've procrastinated enough. I go grab my phone from my jeans and scroll down to the Zs, pressing "call" when I get to Zach's name. It rings four times and goes to voicemail.

"This is Zach. Leave a message," his voice instructs.

"Hey it's me. You, uh, left before we could talk. So call me back when you get a chance," I leave my message vague. I've done all I can at this point and now I can only wait for him to call back.

I've already wasted two and a half days getting very little writing in. I grab my laptop and open it, hoping the muse that visited yesterday didn't take off with Zach. I open the script as well as the basically blank document that should be notes for my upcoming book. I add some witty back-and-forth dialog between the main character and his arch-nemesis/love interest for the script, as well as some notes on different kinds of hand-to-hand combat weapons that I want to research. I switch over to the book's empty page. This is always the most daunting part: starting. Taped across the top of my computer's screen are instructions any author will tell anyone struggling to find their voice. I look at it now: _Write what you know. _What do I know? Right now, in this moment, what is it that I know in my heart to be true? I know what it's like to be a full-grown adult who never thought a mere kiss would make his heart skip a beat. That's something I didn't know before yesterday.

What if I write about that? A story about someone who is maybe a little jaded? Who thought he was well-beyond the butterflies-in-your-stomach crazy crush that normally only teenagers get? And what if the object of our hero's affections is someone he's known half his life? And this happens when he least expects it, mere days from ending it with the person he thought he'd spend the rest of his life with? I begin typing, just to see where this goes.

I look at the time in the corner of my screen. Holy shit, I've been typing for five and a half hours with very few interruptions! And it's good! I stand up to take a break and eat something more substantial than an apple. I grab some hummus and a pita and stand at the counter, eating while my brain continues connecting characters with back stories and making lists of things to get more information on, while a tiny part of it wonders what Zach is doing and why he hasn't called back.

I reason with myself. Considering we spent the past two days together, I imagine he's working today. I only called around noon; if he works nine to five, he just recently got off work, and that's only if he works a normal day shift. Plus it's not like his phone was plugged in last night, so it could be that he hasn't even had a chance to charge it. Oh God, now I'm reasoning why he's not calling, after only six hours. I have got it bad and I'm acting like a teenage girl who's never read _He's Just Not That Into You_. I shake my head. _Save it for the book, Andrews._

I write for another hour and decide to call it quits. Heading back upstairs, I check my phone. No calls. Who am I and what happened to normal, rational Shaun? I turn the TV on and flip through channels; typical, there's nothing that interests me for more than a couple minutes. I must be exhausted because I slip off to sleep.

I wake the next morning at dawn. Grabbing my phone to see if I missed a call, I'm disappointed I have none. I throw my legs over the side of my bed to stand up, and kick the walkie-talkie. _The walkie-talkie!_ Shit, where do Mom and Larry keep the damn batteries? I grab the radio, and my phone, and tear down the stairs, first looking in my mother's craft closet, then the junk drawers: nothing. I raid the cabinets in the kitchen as well as the pantry with no luck. Crap. It's too early to run to the store, in fact it's too early to do much. God knows where in the world and what time zone Mom is so calling is out of the question. But Gabe, that party-animal, might be awake right now. Okay I'm probably being ridiculous at this point, but I push the speed-dial for Baby Brother. It rings three times before he picks up.

"Gabriel's Pussy Palace, Gabe speaking," my brother-ever the gentleman, even at 5:15 AM-answers. "This better be important bro."

"Oh, hey brother," I decide to go for eccentric writer. "What time is it? I didn't even look. I've been writing up a storm and lost track of time."

"The muse has returned! Glad to hear it Shaun," he enthuses. "But seriously dude, what's up? I only went to bed like, an hour ago."

"Oh sorry!" I apologize. "I'm at the beach house and was looking for some batteries. Any idea?"

"For what, bro? Your toys? Needing some self-lovin' so soon after ending it with Rich?" If I didn't love my brother, I'd strangle him. "Hey remember that time I found the purple one in your nightstand?" Jesus Christ. I must have been desperate to call Gabe over some freaking batteries. I decide I'd better end his train of thought before I have to kill him, and suddenly, waiting for a phone call or store to open seems easy.

"Never mind dude. Sorry I woke you," I answer, rolling my eyes.

"Wait, wait bro, hold on," he says, and I can hear him talking to someone on his end of the line. "Sorry,sorry. Had to let Nadia know it wasn't an emergency—oh sorry, Natalia." _Gabe Andrews, keeping it classy as always._ "Yeah, check the office. I think they're in the top left drawer of the desk."

"Thanks G," I reply. "I'll talk to you later when you're more awake. Be safe with Natalia, okay?" I will always worry about him.

"Yeah, yeah, no glove, mouth love," he answers back with a yawn. I fear for a future where he's in a position of power. I hang up and shuffle to the office, finding the batteries exactly where Gabe said they'd be.

I grab the size I need and open up the walkie-talkie's battery hatch, taking out the old ones and tossing them into the trash can next to the desk. I pop in the new ones and turn it on, satisfied that I now have two methods for Zach to potentially reach me. The writer in me views my crazy morning as great fodder for my story, and I reflect on that. What if, instead of being annoyed with how I am reacting to this crush, I embrace it? Use it as the inspiration in is for my book? I realize I'm justifying acting like a love-sick kid, but if it's also for the betterment my novel and the most authentic story, how can I hold myself back from accepting the fact that I have a full-fledged crush on Zach and not beating myself up over it? Having made this decision, a sigh of relief eases from my mouth as several new ideas hit me. I start the coffee maker and grab my laptop, ready to pound out a good chunk of story while I wait for the boy to call me.

The sun sets before I notice the day's nearly over. Except for a call from my agent and a text from a friend wanting to meet up for coffee, I've had no communication and I begin to doubt Zach is going to call me back. Instead of belittling myself for caring, I simply decide to try again.

"This is Zach. Leave a message,"

"Hey Zach, this is Shaun. Could you please give me a call when you have a free moment? I would appreciate it. Thanks!"

The next day is another waiting-game, with no call back. Every once in a while, I grab the walkie-talkie and push the "Talk" button, just to see if the static it creates finds anyone on the other side. Nothing. It was a few stupid _kisses_, for chrissake, it's not like I stole his virtue! At this point, the part of me that's known Zach since he was a little eight year old fist-fighter gets pissed. If he doesn't have the guts to call back, or the good manners to return a phone call, maybe he's not the thoughtful and intelligent person I've always given him credit for.

Day three since waking up alone on the double chaise rolls around. I've got several thousand words down in my book and the script's rough draft is finished; I'm in the tweaking stages. I should be happy, accomplishing what I set out to do by coming where no one would think to find me. Instead, I feel out of sorts and want to crawl out of my skin. Maybe he didn't kiss back and it was my imagination. Am I a predatory creep who took advantage of a situation involving too much beer and an old friend? I'm still Shaun, the same person who taught him how to skate, how to open a beer bottle, how to surf! Things haven't changed that much, have they? I mean, I ride a longboard now, but that's because I don't paddle out nearly as much as I used to.

I can't stay cooped up another day in the house. The physical release of hitting the waves is exactly what I need, I determine. I decide to take one of my regular surfboards instead of my trusty longboard because it will be more challenging physically and I could use the mental stimulation to get me out of this funk. I go to grab my wetsuit, but then I change my mind. If I'm going old-school today, I'm going full-on original surf dude. I rifle through my closet, finding an old, _old_ wetsuit from probably ten years ago. It's cut to the knee with gray sleeves and turquoise legs and the logo on the chest is cracked and peeling off. I definitely feel a sense of vain pride that it still fits. _Oh yeah, body of a 20 year old!_

I load my board and towel into the Subaru and head to a popular beach about 15 minutes away. I park, and as I pull out my board, I notice a distinctive brown GMC Jimmy decorated with stickers. _Oh it's on, Student._

I approach from the side, and he's sitting on the tailgate, getting out of his wetsuit. _Perfect timing_. I rap my knuckles on the side of the vehicle and he looks up.

"Hi dude. I tried calling you," I begin in an attempt to start a conversation. He looks away as he pulls his wetsuit's legs down.

"Yeah." A one-word response. So that's how we're playing it?

"Listen, I just wanted to, uh…" I begin, but he cuts me off.

"Hey I've been really busy man," he brushes me off. Who _is_ this guy and what happened to the easy-going Zach everybody knows and loves?

"Yeah, that's cool," I try to begin again.

"Yeah, I know," his reply is curt and he kind of throws a fake laugh in and at this point, he's just being an asshole. I attempt my own laugh and try once more.

"Listen man…"

"Just drop it dude," he cuts in again, looking away.

"Okay," he gets a one-word response, but at least I'm not a jerk about it.

I take my leave toward the beach. That didn't exactly go smoothly. Well, at least I know where I stand. My feet hit the sand and I pick up the pace. I need to be in the water and look forward to fighting with the waves today. I pass a girl and a kid, when suddenly my name is called.

"Hey Shaun," yells a female's voice. I turn around to see Tori. _Oh, hi Tori, sorry if you on-again-off-again boyfriend has been in a mood the past few days—well, even more so than usual. Feel free to blame me; he certainly does_.

"Hey, what's up?" the gentleman in me won't allow me to be rude, unlike some 22 year olds several yards away. I head back up the beach to the blonde.

"I need help!" a tiny voice to my right pipes up. It's the kid she's with, who is in the process of building an intricate sand castle.

"Shaun, this is Cody," she point to him, officially introducing us. I drop my board and crouch down to introduce myself, and nearly fall over from surprise. Looking at Cody is like looking at a younger version of little Zach when I first met him.


	8. Chapter 8

Wow, I guess whenever the thought of Zach's nephew would spring to mind (and to be honest, it's not like it was often), I just always imagined a generic mousy-looking kid who was a cross between Jeanne and whoever the father was. But Cody's got Zach's coloring and eyes. I go to shake his hand, which is covered in sand.

"Hi Cody, how are you man?" I introduce myself, "I'm Shaun."

"I need help," he begins without preamble. Already I see a personality difference between this boy and young Zach from my memories. Even at eight, Zach relied on himself and didn't ask for help. I'm happy to see that Cody acts like a typical child and requests assistance when he needs it.

"You need help?" I parrot him. Giving Tori a look that says _kids, what can you do?_ I jump in. "Uh, alright, but uh, dude, you've got it all wrong. See, you've got to fortify the corners of the moat first, before you…"

"Forty-five?" He interjects, confused. This kid is a trip! And though it's been several years since I played with a child, like riding the proverbial bicycle, I realize I haven't forgotten a thing. I show him what I mean, digging trenches with a shovel around his castle. Mr. Grumpy approaches.

"Codes, let's go," his voice is terse and his words are clipped. Good God, what does he think I'm gonna do? I practically helped raise him and barring his lousy phone-message-returning etiquette, he turned out okay! Cody doesn't think I'm a pariah at least.

"I'm not done—I have to forty-five!" _You tell 'em kid!_

Tori intervenes. "Shaun, do you mind looking after Cody for a second?" she asks as she stands up and approaches Zach.

"We're cool."

"Let's go for a walk," she invites Zach.

"No, I don't think I should leave Cody." Zach is _officially_ on my shit-list. Fine_, you wanna play this game?_ My inner drama queen is ready to rumble. _How are you gonna explain to Tori why you don't want Cody left alone with dear ol' Shaun?_ I continue digging in the sand, offended that while in my old wetsuit, I even look like I did when I used to care for him and Gabe but can't be trusted for five minutes with Cody.

"Come on, Shaun can watch him," she replies. I owe her. Thwarting Zach has become my new favorite game and she's already helping me win.

"You guys, go. It's fine!" I reply, the picture of innocence.

Zach concedes. "Alright," he grumbles and they walk toward an old lifeguard stand.

"Alright, there we go," I continue, ignoring him and focusing on the boy and our task at hand, determined to get this moat fixed. "This is gonna be a sweet walking bridge!" I exclaim to Cody, noticing what he's building. "Oh, look at that!" I encourage, admiring his work.

"You're a good bridge-builder, Shaun," Cody exclaims, looking up at me with his bright eyes, and I'm charmed.

"Well, I've been doing it for a while, buddy," I reply. "I used to build these with Uncle Zach and his friend Gabe," I finish, pointing to my work with the shovel.

"Gabe calls me 'Playboy' and smells like Jeanne's boyfriend Allen," he asserts continuing to dig.

"Oh, really?" I ask. That can't be good. "Did you know that Gabe's my little brother? If he gives you trouble, you know what you gotta do?" Cody looks up from castle-building and shakes his head, eyes wide with curiosity. "If he ever bugs you, remember to call him 'Baby-Gabey.' He hates it!" Cody giggles with this knowledge.

"You're funny!" he exclaims.

"You're pretty funny too, Half-Pint," I reply. "Is it okay to call you that?" I don't want Cody's one-sentence assessment of me to be "Shaun calls me 'Half-Pint' and makes Uncle Zach mad."

"Yeah, that's fine. Zach calls me 'Codes,' and sometimes 'Buddy!'" He leans in to whisper, "and sometimes, I call him 'Daddy.'" My heart melts, and his smile is as wide as his face. The red string between them is vibrant and strong. Cody goes back to building, unaware he's just shown me so much about their relationship with a mere six words.

"Well that's pretty neat!" I tell him. "Oh, I used to call your uncle 'Ankle-Biter' when he was a kid!" I explain, suddenly remembering.

"I like that one! You can call me that too!" he exclaims. I wonder if he likes this name because it had belonged to Zach.

The moat's fortified and finished. It's a work of art, and I wonder if Cody was blessed with talents like Zach's along with looks.

"I get to go to kindergarten soon," just like every child ever, Cody switches topics with ease and no rhyme or reason.

"That's so cool, Codes," I reply, arranging sticks around the perimeter of the castle.

"Uncle Zach wants to go to school too!" he exclaims, and I drop my stick, surprised at his revelation.

"Oh, he does? He's a little big for kindergarten, dontcha think?" I ask, attempting to get a laugh as well as more info. Kids are great for gathering intelligence! My stab at humor works. Cody is giggling hysterically at the thought of being in class with his uncle.

"No, Shaun, he wants to re'ply to CalArts!" he insists, obviously proud he remembers the name. This is very interesting news. "Mommy says he shouldn't 'cause they down-turned him before. What does that mean?" _Oh, God, how to explain?_

"Maybe he wasn't quite ready to go, Buddy. Not like you—you look like you're ready for first grade!" He giggles some more, and it's the cutest high-pitched laugh. This kid cracks me up. We continue adding to the castle in companionable silence.

Zach and Tori return from the lifeguard station. "Come on Cody, time to go," Zach barks, pointing toward his car.

"Five more minutes!" he implores. _I'd_ _give in._ "Shaun rocks!" _Oh, this kid's getting a pony!_ _You tell Uncle Zach how cool I am!_

Zach grabs his arm in an attempt to pull him away. "No Cody. Let's go."

"Shaun rocks," nephew argues with uncle. "Can I jump on the sand castle?"

"No, we gotta go. Come on," he continues, pulling the boy away.

"Hey, the tide's gonna get it anyway," I reason. "You might as well let him have at it." I am not helping at all.

"Go ahead." With permission granted, Cody and I jump up and down on the sand castle, laughing. I hoop and holler a little louder than necessary. "Alright man, great job!" I give his nephew a high five and look over at Zach. He's miserable. I suddenly feel very petty. _Shit_. I can't leave it this way. If I don't see him before I leave, and at this point, it looks like I won't, I would hate for his last memory of me to be rubbing his nose in the fact that within minutes of meeting me, his beloved Cody was singing my praises.

"Come on Little Man," Tori gathers Codes to take him back to the car.

"Sayonara!" I offer my farewell, gently grabbing Zach's arm before he can leave.

"Hey, I just wanted to talk to you about the other night." Zach turns his body at an angle toward me, but won't look at me. Fine. Regardless of my opinion of his recent behavior, the fact that he is interested in furthering his art education gives me the courage to at least try to talk to him about that, if not actually about what happened the other night.

"What?" he huffily responds, arms crossed over his chest, looking at the sand, the shore, the parking lot, anywhere but in my direction.

"I think you're really talented. And I don't think you should throw it away. I think you should do something with it," I go for gut-wrenching honesty. It works; he looks at me, briefly. Those eyes! Where Cody's are full of merriment, his are full of misery. I feel even worse.

He's still pretty hostile. "Is that it?" _No, I'm sorry about that night and if it confused you. I'm sorry you've put off your dreams to help care for your sister's amazing son. I'm sorry I haven't made anything easier on you today when four days ago I vowed to not be burden on you. I'm sorry you drive me crazy, but in a _good_ way and I'm sorry I don't do the same for you. _But all I can do is give a slight shrug of my shoulders.

"Yeah."

He uncrosses his arms and heads to his car, casually saying goodbye. "Late."

Really? "Late?" I've been on pins and needles for days agonizing over a guy who can't add an "–er?" I shake my head. It's time to get over this boy and stop wasting my time and energy on him. My book's plot won't be affected, because for once that's going fantastically well, and I knew when I started it that it's fiction and has no basis in real life even if parts are inspired by points in my life. Clearly we're at the part where my personal story and my plot diverge. If I thought I needed the ocean earlier, it's nothing like I need it now.

I put my hands on my hips, looking at the ocean, then back at him one last time. I pick up my board next to the remnants of the trampled sand castle and run in. Going over and over until I'm physically unable to ride anymore. _Eww, "Late."_


	9. Chapter 9

Back home from the beach, I grab a bottle of red and pour myself a glass, taking it up to my room. I undress and get in bed, exhausted. I was pretty jerky out there today, and that's not my style. Zach's got so many obligations that adding grappling with his sexuality on top of that must seem insurmountable.

For me, coming out was pretty easy. I told my mom once I was safely tucked away at CalArts. She certainly wasn't overjoyed, but her hairdresser and a great uncle are homosexual so it's not like she'd had no experience around a gay person before. She confided in me a few years later, after several glasses of Chardonnay, that she was afraid losing my father at an early age was the reason I "turned out the way I did." As kindly as possible, I reassured her that I'd had stronger-than-average feelings for _The Karate Kid_ when I was only seven, so I was confident my father's death had nothing to do with it.

Then she mentioned she'd always had suspicions because I was so good with Gabe and helping to take care of him, her eyes began tearing up at that point and she blubbered on about not having grandkids and what a waste of a nurturing parent I would be without kids. At that point, instead of citing adoption, surrogacy, or any number of other ways to make a family to her, I simply hid her bottle of wine. And that was pretty much the end of my coming out. She told Larry, who took it in stride. Gabe found out after finding porn on my computer when he visited me in LA when he was about 18.

I'd heard horror stories from friends about being disowned and worse and always counted myself lucky. I can definitely see Jeanne freaking out on Zach, and though I don't know his dad well, I'm sure he'd be none too pleased having a gay or even bisexual son. And that would kill Zach, who takes his loved ones' opinions of him _very_ seriously. Add that to the fact that he can't get away from his family or attend a hippy liberal school that embraces and encourages diversity, because he's helping out with Cody, and I can see why he is so angry. It seems like a pretty impossible situation, and instead of trying to make it easier, I was a brat about it.

Guilt doesn't make a good bed-partner. Even with wine, it's almost dawn before I fall asleep.

I wake up around half past 11 AM, to my phone ringing. It's my mom, checking in this month on her world tour. It's been a few weeks since we last spoke, so when she asks about Rich, I snort, and fill her in, sort of. Essentially I tell her things are over and I've moved out. I let her know that I'm staying at the house on Ocean Beach until the new place I'm moving into is ready. She is heartbroken. She absolutely loved Rich, and asks if there's any chance for reconciliation. I firmly tell her no, but she goes on and on about "getting through this," and "trying times," and offers so many condolences that it's clear she was more emotionally attached to my ex than I ever was. I extricate myself from the phone call as quickly as possible, promising I'll call Dr. Green (her shrink) if I'm "too depressed to go on."

I make myself some scrambled eggs with cheese and sit down at my laptop to write. Surprisingly, even after yesterday's events and a sleepless night, I'm still plugging away on my writing. I send the final draft of the script to my agent to forward along to the studio for revisions. I open my book, and have come to a part where I'm working out pieces of my characters' pasts that I hadn't hit upon yet in my planning. The hero is gay, and his love interest obviously ends up gay, but what is his experience before getting together with the protagonist? There are things and terms gay men learn along the way that their straight counterparts don't have to: bottoming, topping, being versatile, rimming, and practicing safe sex with higher risks for STDs, to name a few. Of course, I compare my character's love interest to Zach.

Maybe it's best he just avoids me, regardless of what he decides. I haven't been with someone new to all the ins and outs of gay sex since I was 22, and I don't miss it. I decide to give the character in question a history with a young man in college so as to avoid having to delve into all these topics in depth. But to add angst and awkwardness to their interactions, the hero has no clue. Easy. Too bad life's not as easy.

I write for a few more hours then decide to call it a day. I go out to the deck and watch the sun dip into its reflection in the water. June must have been by to clean. All the empties that surrounded the double chaise are gone. Good. There's a decent wind pulling off the ocean. It's chilly but I'm too occupied with my thoughts to go inside and grab a hoodie, so I pull my arms in my t-shirt and hold myself as I lean over the rail to watch the waves. How can I miss someone I've only seen three times in four years? I don't have the answer for that, but I do come to the conclusion that even with no experience with other guys, Zach would be worth the effort.

The sun sets and I head back indoors. I take a hot shower and decide to go to bed. I have the TV on to a cooking channel. I'm a lousy cook but the shows are visually fun to watch, besides, I have it on mute. The movement and colors make me feel less alone. All the sudden, I hear radio static. The walkie-talkie, which is propped up on my night stand, is making the sound! I grab it, waiting to hear his voice on the other end. After a couple minutes of silence, I give up and set it back down. Ten minutes later, it goes to static, and again no one speaks. It happens occasionally a few more times. I'm sure it's a fluke or someone on the same channel far far away, but the irrational sappy part of me hopes it's Zach, wanting to say something but unsure of how to go about it or what to say. _You're hopeless, Andrews_ is my last thought before drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, in an effort to pull myself out of this funk, I decide to attempt to make French toast. The cooking channel, which is still on, is showing how to make it, so I turn up the volume and pay attention. It looks easy enough. I can make eggs; it can't be any more work than that. I gather the eggs and bread, along with milk and sugar and syrup, and follow the directions explicitly. Thirty minutes later, I am sitting at the table enjoying a delicious French toast and orange juice breakfast, inordinately pleased with myself. Usually my recipe-following is half-hearted at best and I just suffer through whatever I make.

With this new skill under my belt, I plan to conquer the day. I get to work on the laptop, and a few hours into it, I make myself take a break. I call a couple friends in LA and catch up with them, encouraging them to come up for the weekend. I work some more, then break to scout through the various rooms nobody uses, and claim a couple more pieces of furniture for my new place, which will be ready in two more weeks. I take a jog down the beach. When I get home, it's dinner time, and I adventurously decide to make spaghetti, finding a recipe online. I use way too much basil and didn't drain the sausage very well, but I don't let it get me down. I go upstairs to my bathroom to brush my teeth, which are pretty garlicky.

From the bathroom I hear the static from the walkie-talkie again. I should just go turn it off. I walk toward the nightstand. It buzzes again. I pick it up, and press "Talk," holding it up to my mouth. Nothing. I can't think of anything to say. I take my finger off the button and set it down without turning it off. I can't, and I don't like what that implies.

Though it's later than he normally does, my agent calls. I answer, and he says I've been offered an additional script to work on. Originally he had thought to decline because I was planning to miss some deadlines, but he figured he'd ask since I'd finished my last one and turned it in before its original due date. I asked what the premise was to be about and he said it was about a writer whose wife had died and her ghost would visit his dreams. Lonely writer-check, I can definitely write that character. Ghosts-why not? I haven't done much super-natural stuff. Plus with the way I've been churning out pages, the book is practically writing itself and will be done within a couple months, so I've got the free time. We chat about a few more things before he apologizes for calling so late and keeping me on the phone for almost an hour. I tell him it's fine and I'm excited about the new project. He agrees to email me the outline and more info in the morning, and I hang up.

At least the radio stopped hissing static a few minutes into my call and hasn't made a sound since. I should get ready for bed. All the sudden, the blessed silence is disrupted by a faint knock. I strain my ears, thinking that maybe listening to and for buzzing for the past 24 hours has messed with my hearing. Nope, I still hear it. It is way too late for a neighbor to borrow sugar. I amble downstairs to see who it is, glad I hadn't undressed yet. As I approach the door, I can see the person through the glass. He's looking down, but I'd recognize the hair, the clothes, the body anywhere. _Zach!_


	10. Chapter 10

I open the door. _What is he doing here, now? _Without words, he enters the house and grabs my face, kissing me. Almost roughly, he pushes me back and shuts the door, never keeping his lips from mine for more than a second. We twist around and are at the foot of the stairs, still kissing. These aren't the almost-chaste kisses we exchanged a few days ago. These are rough and passionate. His tongue is warm as it invades my mouth. _Why is he here?_

I pull away and look at his face, trying to keep a somewhat-level head while my body demands instant gratification, but I won't take part in something he won't remember or will regret in the morning—I can't do that to him. I look him in the eye. Is he drunk? High? Nope, his eyes only show raw hunger and need. _Alright, we're gonna do this._ I kiss him back and he grabs the hem of my shirt, pulling up. I make it easier for him by lifting my arms. My shirt falls to the floor, and he begins on his hoodie and t-shirt, as we make our way upstairs. His chest presses against mine and it's total electric warm currents again. I grab his hip as we pause part way up, continuing to make out, and he starts on my belt.

I help him with his jeans as he's pulling mine off of me, and they're then next casualties left on the stairs in Zach's war on clothing. _God help me!_ We get to the top of the stairs, somehow. Still joined at the lips and clad only in our underwear, we make it to my room. The bulge in his boxers and his eager expression make me burn. We kiss all the way to the bed, and he throws himself down on the edge, pulling himself further onto it. Suddenly, in this haze, I realize I don't have condoms or lube. _Fuc_k! Then I remember my character dilemma and realize Zach's experience with men is most likely non-existent, and he probably doesn't know what he likes anyways, so I stop worrying and just let it happen. Meanwhile, he's looking at me and it's so hot.

He pulls me on top of him and we continue to kiss. His hands are all over: my hair, my back, my face, my side, like he can't get them everywhere he wants at once. I trail kisses down the side of his face along his neck and suddenly he's flipped us over and is on top, and between kisses he has the most satisfied little smile. _Oh, you're enjoying this, huh?_ I vow to make this an amazing experience for him, and flip us back so I'm on top again.

His hands are above his head, unmoving, and it's like my fantasy with the zip ties in the hardware store. I pull my lips from his and begin my descent downward, slowly. I feel his blood pumping rapidly, like a drum going faster and faster as I kiss him. I kiss over his heart, showing it the extra attention it deserves as is beats its rapid tattoo. Midway down his chest, while still kissing, I begin to pull his boxers down. _Beautiful man._ The hair that extends down from his bellybutton is sparse and lighter than on his head. Gabe's bawdy comment from the other day pops in my head _"No glove, mouth love!"_ Ug! I expel my brother from my brain during sexy time, before I heave and Zach takes it personally. I continue to kiss down, around his navel, along his hip bone down, lower, lower. I peek up between kisses and his eyes are closed with a smile on his face and he's _so_ gorgeous right now.

Instead of immediately taking him into my mouth, I continue kissing around his cock, along his inner thighs, above the thatch of hair at the end of his happy trail. My hands massage his thighs, stroke his stomach, my stubble brushes around every curve, but Zach, who's never been a complainer, doesn't say a thing. His hips shudder slightly every few seconds, and I can tell he wants to thrust, but he trusts me, and I'm humbled. I gently put his head in my mouth and wait for a second. He moans, so I continue, slowly, slowly, taking all of him, licking, blowing, sucking, at first gently. His hips rock and I continue harder, my hands grab onto his hips, fingers wrapping around to his ass and I continue blowing him. He finally makes a noise.

"Come-coming!" he warns me. I continue, determined to finish what I've started. He comes and though I don't normally, I swallow; this is a special occasion. After, I begin my ascent kissing all the way back up, again, paying special attention to his heart. When I get to his mouth, his satisfied grin makes not yet having any release myself _so_ worth it. We begin making out again, and he flips me over with a smile like he wants to return the favor. _Oh no, Student, this is all about you right now._ I flip him back and he smiles and it's such a relief to see that smile that I smile. Master begins his way down again. This time, I explore more. Flipping him over onto his stomach, I kiss his shoulder blades, down his spine, and spend a lot of time kissing the area he caught me staring at in the hardware store. His ass is so sexy and between kisses, my fingers play between his cheeks.

I can tell he's not exactly sure about this, but he's still trusting, so I continue with the kisses, leaving a wet trail over his backside, between his thighs, to the backs of his knees, which I've never really paid attention to before on a guy, but years of surfing and skating have made his legs hot. He's grabbing pillows and moaning into them as I continue. He's hard again. I flip him over and use my hands along with my mouth this time.

Eventually we fall asleep, but soon after, I'm awaked as he begins kissing his way down me. _There's definitely something to be said for being with younger men._ This time I allow it and he takes his time. I'm not sure if he's nervous or excited but I don't want to make him feel awkward in any way, so I gently encourage him to explore. His attentions are hot and I am rock hard and ready to explode, but this is still about him. I'm glad I had decided he'd be worth it; I was definitely correct. He takes me into his mouth and though he's a little clumsy, it's an almost-holy experience watching him. I come and we're both exhausted. He crawls back up to the pillows and collapses, and then begins drawing swirls on my chest and stomach with his fingers till he drifts off to sleep. For the second time with this boy—no, this man—I wonder how tonight will affect tomorrow. In his sleep, he turns over to his side, his ass pressed against me. I throw my arm over him, spooning, determined that he won't sneak off this time.

The sun is shining when Zach begins to move, though it's still early. I'm awakened by his movements, my arm is over him still, and at some point while we slept, his arm aligned with mine with his palm over the back of my hand. _Adorable._

"Good mornin,'" I greet him, deciding to offer to make French toast. _God last night must've meant something if I'm willing to potentially kill him by cooking for him._ He interrupts my thoughts.

"What time is it?" _Oh God, he's gonna bolt. I should have known._ I look around for the clock, but I'm barely awake and my eyes are still adjusting. I just close them, determined not to help him take off.

"Why, you got somewhere to go?"

"Yeah, yeah. I gotta go." Did last night mean nothing to him? I'm not too much of a cuddler, but to hit it and quit it your first time with a guy stings. And it's not like I'm some random stranger he needs to sneak out on. Why am I being so needy about this? He begins to pull himself up.

"Wait," I implore, grabbing him and pulling him back into the warm bed. I will fight for this.

He leans back into the bed, aligning our arms once again, threading his fingers over mine. He gives my hand a slight squeeze, gently saying, "Listen, I gotta go." I take this to mean he's actually got somewhere to be, which he might, and I let him go, throwing my arm that held him above my head.

I watch him grab his boxers and turn away to put them on, still shy, which I would normally find ridiculous considering the body part he's hiding spent a good amount of time _in my mouth_ last night, but for some reason, with Zach, it's kind of cute. He shuffles to the door and turns around.

"Late." _Oh my God._ Way to ruin the moment, dude.

"Late-_er_," I reply. He rolls his eyes and grins. I grin back and he leaves.

I burrow back down into the blankets and go back to sleep. I think it's gonna be okay—I hope.


	11. Chapter 11

"**May my heart be your shelter, and my arms be your home."**

** Marianne Williamson, American Author/Activist**

I wake up a couple hours later with a smile. Though I don't usually remember my dreams, this one's stayed in my brain upon waking and involved a certain visitor from last night. I don't want to do anything but lay here in the bed and relive the evening's events, but alas, I promised to check that email about the new script. I drag myself up and on the floor and head to the bathroom, grabbing my cell as well as the walkie-talkie, which hasn't buzzed static at all since before Zach came over. I hop in the shower and lather up, only to notice a couple bite marks, one on my chest and another on my hip. _Animal!_ Toweling off when I'm done, I mentally evaluate my medicine cabinet. I make a list of things I need to re-stock when I head to the drug store: sun block, toothpaste, and aspirin—and maybe, _just maybe_, condoms and lube.

I get dressed and grab my two methods of communication to head downstairs. I plop down in front of the laptop and turn it on, hoping I'm not too unfocused to get some work done. I open my agent's email about the script and begin taking notes. Generally with any piece of writing I do, I'll start a big brainstorm page with ideas on everything that immediately comes to mind, along with a list of questions I'll have about topics I'm not knowledgeable on and things I'll need to look up. This serves as a jumping off point for my work and I always have it open in case something hits me while I'm working on something else or a different part of the story.

I fill up a page and a half of these notes, really getting into the concept and storyline. If I thought I'd broken through my writer's block a few days ago, it's nothing compared to the ideas and words and phrases rushing through my head today. I switch over to the book and work on that for a while, barely noticing that it's almost noon. I break from work and grab my cell phone. It's the moment of truth. I call Zach, holding my breath as I expect the voice mail prompt.

"Hey," he actually answers, and I can hear him smiling on the other end. _Hallelujah!_

"Hey," I reply, honestly a bit thrown off he actually answered. "Everything cool?"

"Yeah, yeah." He's clearly not the chatty type on phone calls, not that he's all that talkative in real-life. He said maybe 30 words total last night and this morning.

"So, uh, what are you doing?" I ask, still curious about why he had to leave earlier. He doesn't give up the information.

"Um, going to work," he answers. If he were an artist, he would be able to set his own schedule. He's _got_ to go to art school.

"Come on over tonight," I implore, "I'll cook steaks." While I can't cook for shit, I'm pretty decent when it comes to barbeque. Since I couldn't wow him with my French toast prowess this morning, I'm compelled to make him _something_.

"Uh, I can't," he replies, but it's hesitant. Without being too pushy, I try to change his mind.

"Come on! I'll make margaritas—strong ones," I try to entice him. I'm not half bad as a bartender and a little liquid courage can't hurt.

I hear a female voice and he mumbles "No one" to them. _Nice, I'm a no one._ I laugh quietly at that, not offended in the least. "Hold on," he cuts me off and I can hear him cover the receiver and talk to someone. The muffled exchange lasts about a minute and he returns to our conversation. "Shaun, I can't." His voice sounds genuinely disappointed. I would bet all of my longboards that Jeanne is somehow involved in the reason he can't come over.

"Why?"

"Jeanne's leaving for the weekend and I gotta watch Cody," he answers. And we come to the choosing point each and every one of us makes for and about of any kind of relationship we're involved in, whether it be friendship, romantic, work or otherwise: accepting another's priorities into our own world. Anyone spending five minutes with Zach would realize that his nephew is one of the most important people in his life. Cody comes with Zach as a kind of two-for-one bonus, and without hesitation, I am okay with this. A big part of what makes him so sexy to me is his devotion to those red strings.

"So bring him," I enthuse. _I want to see you for more reasons than getting you naked._

"No," he blurts out, sounding as if I'd suggested something distasteful, and I can imagine the look of disgust on his face. _Did I say the _naked_ bit out loud?_

"Why not?" I ask, surprised he turned me down, trying not to sound defensive, but definitely ready to give him a verbal smack-down if his reasons are because he doesn't want Cody near me again.

"You don't…" Zach stumbles over his words, surprised, "…you don't care?" He sounds shocked. Seriously, who are the people he hangs around that have issue with his nephew tagging along once in a while? I'm glad it's not me that he was worried about.

"No, that kid's great!" I exclaim, because it's true, and so Zach sees that I appreciate and support his helping to raise Cody. I continue, "He says some funny shit." And I hope he realizes that I think he's more than a casual hook-up. I wonder if setting a time will make it more real to him so he'll just agree to come. "Look, I'm turning the grill on at eight."

"Okay," he accedes, and I can hear his smile's returned.

We hang up. I've got things to get done before they arrive. I grab my keys and head to my car. I pop into the drug store and gather my shopping list. Now that I know he's not going to avoid me at all costs, I add the prophylactics to my basket, not that I'm expecting anything to happen tonight, especially with Cody coming along, but I'd rather be safe in advance than rushing to get them in the heat of the moment. When I'm in the toothpaste aisle, I grab an extra toothbrush the same color as the red shirt Zach threw off last night. As I go to put it in my basket, I wonder what I'm even doing. Am I jumping ahead of myself, getting him one to keep at my house? Or just preparing for the possibilities? I shake my head. _Stop over-thinking, Andrews._ I drop the toothbrush into the basket. It's always good to have extras on hand.

My next stop involves about an hour's drive, but I know it well. I drive to my alma mater, CalArts in Santa Clarita to pick up an application and scholarship information. If Jeanne's going to pressure him to not try, I plan to be equally encouraging that he applies. The long drive back give me plenty of time to come up with reasons he should apply to counter any reasons he shouldn't.

I get home and have about an hour to prep some vegetables to go with the steaks. I run down to the cellar to grab a bottle of red. Larry's collection is stellar, and I've definitely made a dent in it, so tonight I grab a bottle I'd been admiring. I come back upstairs and get to work on cutting veggies. My phone rings. It's Zach. _So help me God if he's cancelling!_

"Hey," I answer.

"Uh, we're on our way, you know?" he replies.

"Awesome," I answer back, relieved. "Hey, the door's unlocked so just come on in." I continue.

"Okay, cool," he responds. "So, uh, see you soon. Um, bye." _Cute. At least he didn't say "Late!"_

I'm in the kitchen when they arrive. Zach is dressed in full on skater-dude gear, reminding me of _Skate This!_ He looks boyish and carefree and hot. Cody's wide eyes are doing a full inventory and I'm surprised he's not familiar with the place. Does he ever come here with Zach to see Gabe? Not that my brother's the best influence for a child, but I would hope he's not one of the reasons his best friend was reluctant to bring his nephew, who's now looking a bit intimidated by his surroundings. In an effort to make him feel comfortable, I address him first.

"Hey, Ankle-Biter!" I exclaim, giving him a high-five. "What's up man? How are you?" I lift him up to sit on the counter. This kid is adorable, and I decide here and now to give him whatever he wants for dinner. He did, after all, proclaim that I rock. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving!"

"Starving?" I parrot. "What would you like for dinner?"

Zach interrupts. "Hey, he'll eat whatever," and I get that he doesn't want Cody to be any additional trouble, but this kid thinks that I'm a good bridge-builder _and_ that I rock. Those kinds of compliments are not easily given by five year olds!

I reply, to Cody. "I don't think I was asking him, was I?"

"No?" he replies like it's a question.

"No, I don't think so." I insist.

"No," he concurs.

"No," I conclude. "Good. Cold ones are in the fridge," I finally address Zach.

"What are you drinking?"

"Red. Larry had this sick bottle in the cellar."

"I'll try that."

"Alright, cool," I go to pour him a glass and continue with Cody. "Alright Buddy, lay it on me. Whatcha gonna have for dinner tonight?" I ask, praying he's got the normal palate of a five year old, which is well within my cooking skill-set. If this kid asks for chicken cordon bleu, we're screwed. Suddenly offering anything for dinner seems hasty.

"Mac and cheese…"

"Okay."

"…hot dogs…" he continues. Easy—that I can definitely do.

"Hot dogs?" I repeat back to him.

"…and, um, pancakes with chocolate chips," Cody continues.

"Chocolate chips? Okay," I reply. That might be a little difficult, but I'll give it a shot. He looks down at what I've been cutting and amends his order.

"And NO vegetables."

"And no vegetables? I exclaim, completely amused. "Are you sure?" I question, and I decide to go for funny again, because what kid would request veggies? "Sure-sure?" He nods, giggling. "Okay, alright buddy. I want you to do me a favor, go look out at the ocean. Beautiful waves coming in right now. I'm gonna make your dinner…" I proclaim, then look at Zach and shrug my shoulders. "…somehow."

Cody takes off for the deck, inquisitive as ever, "Are we still in California?" He cracks me up.

"Yeah Buddy." Zach replies, as I grab my keys. "Wha? Where are you going?"

"Well, I don't think we have that stuff in the house," I admit.

"Seriously dude, don't worry about it," he assures me.

"No, I want to!" I exclaim, clasping my hands together. "Little kids are supposed to be spoiled. Besides, I'll be back in, uh, five minutes, okay?" I go to give him a quick peck, but he ducks out of it, pointing toward the door Cody just exited.

"I'm gonna, uh, go check on him." _Student is still slightly uncomfortable._

I rush to the store and grab a cart, throwing in a box of macaroni and cheese, a packet of hot dogs, pancake mix and chocolate chips. For good measure, and to ensure we have some kid-friendly food options, I add chocolate milk mix, American cheese, raisins, peanut butter, strawberry and grape jellies (I don't know which Codes prefers), and ice cream.

After checking out at the market, I hurry back home. Zach and Cody are still on the deck, watching the waves. Cody is pointing to something near the horizon and his uncle replies pointing to something in a different direction. They could be father and son-they practically are. Cody is a lucky boy.

I throw the noodles in a pot of water and put it on the stove. Next I heat up a hot dog. I pull out a skillet to make a couple pancakes when they come back inside. I read the directions on the box and grab the eggs and milk out of the fridge. I toss the ingredients in a bowl and start stirring, grabbing the bag of chocolate chips to stir in. Zach gives me a strange look.

"You should prolly add the chocolate chips in after you pour the batter, dude," he starts, then pulls the bowl away from me and begins stirring himself. "You don't wanna stir too long or they get thin and they won't hold the chips." Clearly he's done this before. He takes over the pancake-making, and I am cool with that, as they were getting beyond my comfort level. "Dude, watch the noodles!" he exclaims, as foamy bubbles begin to rise over the rim of the pot. _Shit!_ Zach grabs a wooden spoon and sets it on the pot; the bubbles dissipate. He's got short-order down pat, and I'm a little envious as well as turned on watching him cook.

I'm able to make the hot dog without any assistance from Mr. Diner-God, and together we assemble Cody's dinner. While he's waiting for it to be ready, Cody notices the walkie-talkie, which I had left next to my laptop.

"We have one of these!" he exclaims, and begins to talk into it, "Cody to Jeanne, Cody to Jeanne, come in Jeanne!" I wonder if he's the one who's been pushing "Talk" the past couple days.

"Hey Codes, your mom's traveling right now, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Cody sets the radio down, a sad look in his eyes.

"Ankle-Biter, remember how I told you that Uncle Zach and my brother Gabe were best friends and we built sand castles?" He nods, now intrigued by my story instead of missing his mom. _It worked! _"They would stay up and talk to each other all the time on them, but Gabe left his in my room, so it's mine now."

"So we can talk on these when I get back home?" he asks, excited by the prospect. I look at Zach. I don't want him to get upset and hadn't planned for this to be the outcome of my story—I'd simply wanted to get his mind off his mom. Without hesitation, Zach nods his approval, and I'm relieved. _He trusts me with Cody._

"Sure thing, Buddy!" I reply. Cody grins, happily playing with it as we plate his dinner. Zach had made the pancake into a Mickey Mouse, then added extra chocolate for the eyes and nose and a bow tie. Cody digs right in, finishing it all with a tall glass of chocolate milk. The meal's made him drowsy, and Zach carries him to a chair and ottoman next to the window nearest the grill, where I've got all the stuff for grown-up dinner ready to go.

While I'm grilling (and I had to assert that I can, in fact, grill, after my abysmal dinner preparations, to a rather smug good cook), we finally have a chance to chat.

"Where did Jeanne say she was going?" I ask.

"She's going to Oregon. She thinks there's some job up there worth checking out." I can't begin to fathom how selfish that is. Is she going to try to uproot her father and brother, not to mention her son, for a slightly better job up north? Where would Cody be right now if Zach wasn't around? Would he be en route to Oregon as well or pawned off on someone else? Cody lucked out getting Zach in his life.

"I admire what you're doing for Cody," I begin, eager to praise him, which I'm sure he doesn't usually get. "You don't have to."

"Yeah, I do."

"It's a choice, Zach," I state, because in the real world, it is. He has no legal responsibilities as an uncle.

"It's family. I'm the only one left," he replies, and I understand, having taken on similar responsibilities to Gabe when my father died.

"You get that from your mom," I tell him reverently, remembering dear Sylvia.

"Yeah, I know. Lucky me." He takes a sip of wine. _No, lucky Cody, who deserves it, and extra-lucky Jeanne, who abuses it._ I can see the pressure he's under to be everything to everyone.

I grab his wineglass and set it down, "Come here," I implore, grabbing his hand and pulling him from his seat, our first real physical contact since this morning.

"What?"

"Come here," I encourage, grabbing hold of his shoulders, squeezing in an effort to show my support.

"I need to go check on…"

I cut in, "He's fine. He's asleep. He's okay," and before I can embrace him, he grabs me in a hug. "Just come here."

We hold each other for a long time. I can't imagine how hard the past few years have been for him. I wish I could transfer some strength to him via our embrace, but for now, I hold him, humbled by what an amazing man he's become, and grateful to have had some small part in it.

We break apart after several minutes, Zach's eyes are glassy, but I don't mention it. The steaks are done, and we eat on the patio. He alleviates the somber mood the night's taken by griping that he would have grilled them better. I roll my eyes, and am glad he's smiling again.

It's getting very late, and Zach says they have to go, even though I offered to have them spend the night, with absolutely no hanky-panky. He blushed when I mentioned it and I laughed, but Zach is insistent. He picks up a sleeping Cody from the chair by the window and heads to the door.

"You sure you don't wanna stay?" I ask one last time.

"He doesn't like waking up in strange places. Gets enough of that when I'm not around." _No doubt._

"Take this," I instruct him, shoving the packet I got this afternoon in his hand.

"What is it?"

"CalArts application."

"Shaun, I'm not going down this road again…" he begins, but I won't have it.

"Take it," I cut in. _Take it for you. Take it for your mother, who would have encouraged you. Take it for Cody, who will only benefit when you're able to work in a field you love making more money._

"Thanks for tonight," he says, packet in hand.

I lean out to him, and he leans back. We share a sweet goodbye-at-the-door kiss, ending the evening. Tonight felt intimate—a different kind of intimacy than last night, obviously, but equally as intimate.


	12. Chapter 12

I watch him carry the sleeping boy to his car, keeping careful hold of him as he opens the door with the hand holding the application. He settles Cody in his car seat and buckles him in, careful not to jostle him awake. He's clearly done this before. He grabs the application from the floorboard he'd set it down on to attend to his nephew and quietly shuts the door, opening his door to get in the driver's seat and closing that just as quietly. He sets the paper work on the passenger's seat and starts the car. _Yes! He does care about attending!_ As he pulls out of the drive, he waves goodbye. I wave back and shut the door. Tonight couldn't have gone better. Instead of cleaning up dishes or overanalyzing the evening, I shut off all the lights, grab my phone and the walkie-talkie, and head upstairs.

I wake the next morning in the most ridiculous good mood. This "crush" is physically manifesting itself in crazy ways. I feel alert with no caffeine and jittery but in a good way. I head to the beach for a quick surf session, which helps me to expend all the energy that's created itself inside of me. When I get home, I take care of the mess from the night before, scraping off a few pieces of macaroni Cody missed before putting that plate in the dishwasher next to two wine glasses. The amount of dishes I'm washing from last night is more than I've done since I got here and it makes me smile. I finish cleaning, then head upstairs to rinse off from the beach.

As I'm getting ready to head into the shower, debating when an appropriate amount of time has passed to call Zach, the walkie-talkie comes to life.

"Cody to Shaun, Cody to Shaun, come in Shaun!" I grab the radio and push "Talk."

"Ankle-Biter! What's up?" I respond. He giggles. Making this kid laugh is becoming a fun new hobby of mine, almost as fun as making his uncle smile.

"Zach and me are gonna go to the beach!" he replies, so excited.

"You are?"

"Yup! He said we can build sand castles. But I can't remember how to forty-five, so he said I should see if you're 'vailable to help." _Using your adorable nephew to spend time with me, before I could come up with a reason to call you? I always knew you were clever, bro. Well played! _

"Sure thing Buddy!" I enthuse, and I can't get this dopey smile off my face. Looks like I'm heading back to the beach.

"Okay, hold on. Lemme go find Zach," he trails off with his finger still on "Talk." "Zach," I hear him wail across whichever room he's in. "Shaun can go!"

All of the sudden, I can hear Zach, faintly, in the background. "Wait, _you called him_ on the walkie-talkie?" Oops, looks like clever Cody had maneuvered this on his own. So much for thinking Zach was anxious enough to use his nephew to see me. "Gimme that," I can hear him say, then all the sudden the connection cuts out, but not for long. "Oh, hey," a sheepish Zach now has the radio. I smile as the jittery energy I thought I'd surfed out finds a home inside my stomach.

"Hey there, dude. I hear you and Codes need some help with a sand castle."

"Um, yeah we're gonna hit the beach, but if you're busy or something, it's fine. Cody mentioned you helped him the other day, but, um, if you have other stuff to do I don't wanna bother you, you know? I didn't think he was gonna hit you up on the walkie-talkies…" he could continue, but I decide to ease his embarrassment.

"No, I'm totally free and would love to assist!" I cut in.

"You, uh, you would?" _What's with the surprise?_

"Yeah, uh, I was actually getting ready to call you guys to see what you were doing today," I admit, and suddenly I see why he was so awkward about it. I'm blushing from simply admitting I would like to see him.

"That's cool, that's cool," he answers back to my admission. "We'll, we're gonna head out in ten, do you want to meet up somewhere? Or we could come get you?"

"Yeah or hey, if you wanna head this way, the private beach out back isn't good for surfing, but has definite sand castle-building potential," I offer.

"Awesome," he replies. "We'll be over in a bit."

I am suddenly glad I'd done all the dishes already. With half an hour before they arrive, I search the house for appropriate building materials, sacrificing some of Mom's bowls for buckets and serving spoons for shovels.

The boys arrive as I find a basket of decorative seashells and starfish in a guest room no one ever uses. I add it to my castle collection when I hear Cody.

"Shaun, we're here!" he yells so enthusiastically I can't help but smile.

"Up here, Buddy," I call back, searching the room for any other materials to use. I can hear Cody running up the stairs and down the hall to where I am.

"Hi!" he greets me, a pail and shovel in hand, and a big grin on his face. He looks at the room, which is decorated in "tasteful browns and grays" according to my mom. "Oh wow!" he's exclaims in awe. "This looks like the Bat-Cave!" While I'm not sure that's quite what the decorator has in mind, looking around with that mind-set, I can see what Cody's talking about. Along the walls are various pieces of art, some are very technical and geometrical, and others are more organic, but they're all highlighted with a single light above them recessed in the ceiling. Some of the less structured pieces could definitely resemble the Bat-Suits that are on display in Batman's lair, and the precise ones could look like his computers and mechanical gear to a 5 year old. Zach makes his way to us and Cody explains to him that he's in the Bat-Cave. Zach shows the proper reverence for this discovery and Cody is satisfied.

We head out to the deck and apply sun block. Zach first lathers Cody up, being extra-gentle around his eyes and nose and mouth. As Cody finishes his arms and legs, Zach is applying it to himself. Watching him rub the white lotion into his skin is getting me pretty hot, and I can't help but offer my assistance.

"Hey, lemme get your back for you, dude," I offer, grabbing the bottle out of his hand, wondering if he'll stop me.

"I can get it," he shoots back, extending his hand toward me requesting the bottle. Cody, that lovable kid, shows me how much he really thinks I rock as he sides with me.

"Uncle Zach, you helped me put it on my back 'cause you said I can't reach all the way. And it's nice to help people you always tell me. You should tell Shaun 'thanks' like you always make me say." I grin as Zach grapples with disagreeing with his own teachings. He can't seem to come up with a valid reason not to let me. _This kid's getting ice cream when we get back_, I think, grateful I'd stocked up for him last night.

"Fine," he concedes between clenched teeth. I smile, the picture of innocence. As I pour sun block into my hand, rubbing them together to make it warm, he quietly says, "No funny business." _Like I would do anything inappropriate in front of the kid._

He presents his back to me, and I rub the lotion in, starting at his neck and shoulders. He's tense. I press firmly into his muscles, running my hands back and forth over the tattoo at the base of his neck, trailing lower over his vertebrae and across his shoulder blades. Maybe this wasn't the best idea, because it's starting to affect me as well as Zach, who has developed goose bumps along his arms. I continue down, using more lotion, over his lower back and around his sides, bumping into his elbow. He jumps as I squeeze into his hips. _Ticklish, good to know!_ Then I finish just over the tattoo on the small of his back. He turns around, and there is a wicked look on his face. He gives me a diabolical smile and grabs the lotion.

"Your turn." _Oh shit I am in trouble! _Cody looks bored and begins pawing through the stuff I'd collected for the epic sand castle. Zach pours lotion into his hand as I turn around. Without warming it, he slabs it on me. The coolness of it startles me and I jump. He hastily covers my back with what feels like a lot of sun block, then uses his fingers to rub it in. Where I was methodical and thorough, Zach is crazy and all over the place, pushing and squeezing, first on a shoulder, then mid-back, then near an underarm and back again near my neck. The not knowing where his fingers will be next is driving me crazy, and if this keeps up, I may not be able to go with them due to an indecent bulge in my board shorts. His fingers dart to the lowest part of my back, and slip ever-so-slightly under the waistband of my shorts. _God this is so hot!_ As quick as they're there, his fingers take off, trailing patterns up and down and across my back. I guess that I probably deserve this, since I started it, but damn, playful Zach is sexy!

He finishes after dipping into my shorts a couple more times, no more than half an inch, but I make it with my dignity intact and able to face the possible neighbors also enjoying the private beach by imagining Gabe and our most recent call. Nothing like a foul-mouthed little brother to cool the libido. I am sure to use my best manners and thank Zach when he finishes, hoping Cody notices my polite words that his uncle obviously forgot. Zach rolls his eyes at me and we get set to head down to the beach. I stow all the stuff I'd gathered, along with what Cody brought, in a canvas bag and we begin the trek down to the shore. I have the bag and Cody is between us, holding his uncle's hand. He shyly looks up at me from under his bangs and I smile at him. His hand shoots out and grabs my empty one. I can start to feel an intense affection for this child physically manifest itself near my heart. I swallow as he looks up at me, in an effort to confirm his hand's welcome in my own. I nod and he smiles. In my mind, some very tenuous red threads build themselves between our clasped hands.

Cody decides to become an acrobat, attempting wide jumps and flips with help from us adults. We lift when he jumps to propel him higher and farther. He's laughing hysterically and the look on Zach's face is pure bliss. We arrive at the waterline, and Cody scouts the perfect location. We build the basic walls up and Cody and I spend plenty of time fortifying the moats so they're sturdy while Zach creates intricate designs on the walls with a stick. Along with the bricks, there are images of dragons, knights, plants, windows with scenes going on inside the castle, and more. If he can elevate a mere sand castle to art, I can't wait to see what he can do with an education. Once the moat is declared "forty-fived," Cody takes a bucket to the surf to get water to fill it. He's ecstatic when it holds the water, and we begin assisting Zach with castle décor, using the shells and starfish I'd shanghaied from the Bat-Cave.

We finish the castle a while later and stand back to admire our work. Cody is drowsy; we've been working on this for almost two hours, though it feels like a few minutes. The three of us pounce on it as soon as Cody declared it time, jumping up and down, destroying Zach's beautiful work and our awesome moat, but having him join in on this fun, when last time he'd been so miserable, makes it worth it. I gather the building supplies and we head back to the house. This time, Cody's too beat to do any jumps, but still grabs both of our hands. My eyes meet Zach's over his head. He looks pretty exhausted too, but also content. I'm glad I had something to do with this.

Upon entering the house, Zach scoops Cody up, intent to have him rest.

"Okay Buddy, I know it's a little later than usual, but it's time for a quick nap," he insists, and Cody doesn't argue. He carries his nephew in the direction of the chair and ottoman Cody had slept on last night. At this point, Cody puts up a fight.

"Wanna sleep in the Bat-Cave!" he insists. Zach seems surprised and I remember him saying he only liked to sleep in Zach's room. He looks at me, and I nod my head allowing and approving, as there's far too much light in the living room for him to get good sleep, versus the darkened guest room. Zach gently carries him up the stairs, and I loiter outside the door, unsure what to do. Cody calls for me after his uncle tucks him in.

"Sleep well, Codes," Zach tells the boy.

"Sleep well, Uncle Zach," Cody replies. I wonder if this is a ritual they have. "Sleep well, Shaun," he adds, before drifting off to sleep. To be included is humbling. We tiptoe out the door, turning off the light and shutting it as we enter the hallway. _Alone time._ We tread down the hallway, and I turn into my room. He looks at me like he's gonna argue.

"Master needs to get his rest, as does Student. From here, Student can hear when Grasshopper wakes up and opens door," I sagely advise. He considers this, then turns into my room as well. I slip off my flip flops, and crawl into bed, leaving my board shorts on so he sees I'm not looking to get busy with Codes down the hall. His face shows relief as well as regret (or is that my imagination?) and he does the same. I turn to face him in bed, suddenly not exhausted at all. He turns to face me. _So beautiful. _I end the silence.

"Sorry I subjected you to the Coppertone rubdown earlier," I apologize, smiling.

"S'okay," he replies, a grin on his face. "I got you back pretty good," he assesses, drawing designs on my chest again as he bursts into laughter. I can't help but laugh back.

"Yeah, you did," I agree. He continues drawing with his finger across my body, and if I could capture this moment I would put it in a montage of perfect scenes in my life. We drift off to sleep without conversing more.

I wake up a short while later. Zach's hand is still near my chest, a couple fingers caressing my Adam's apple. I pull back away from his hand, and carefully roll myself off of the bed, cautious not to wake him. The sun is beginning to set and it's getting cooler. I tiptoe out of my room to check on Cody, and the door is still closed, so I press my ear to it. No noise; he must be still asleep. I pad back to my room, grabbing a sweater to combat the chill in the air, and grab an additional one for Zach, laying it at the foot of the bed near his feet. I head downstairs to grab Cody's so he doesn't get a chill when he wakes up. I set his clothes on the hallway table next to the guest room after I quietly ascend the stairs. When I get back to my room, Zach is no longer in the bed, and neither is the sweater. I look around the room, but then notice him on the balcony, leaning over the railing. I throw my flip flops on and head out there, leaving the French door open to keep an ear out for Cody.

I lean against the rail with my back against it, next to his hunched form.

"Wanna stay for dinner?" I enquire, crossing my arms over my chest to keep warm.

"I don't want us to be a burden on you or your time," he replies, and I am about to give him an earful about what a load of shit that is, when he continues, "but I'll take you up on the offer, since I know you're probably desperate for a decent meal." _Brat!_ I use my elbow to bop him on the head, then join in on more playful back-and-forth with him.

"Well that's good. Look at those clouds," I point out, over the roof. He turns and looks. "No way I can grill again with the possibility of rain on the horizon," I joke. He smiles.

"What do you wanna eat? What have you got here?" he quizzes me. I continue being a smart-ass.

"Mac and cheese, hot dogs, pancakes with chocolate chips, and NO vegetables!" I deadpan.

"You're incorrigible," he replies, laughing. "I'll figure something out downstairs."

"Hey, I meant it when I invited you to stay," I switch the topic back to his original reply. "If I _say_ it, I _mean_ it. If I didn't _want_ to spend time with it, I wouldn't have agreed to Cody this morning when he radioed me, or asked you to stay, got it?" I conclude, intent to have him understand.

"Student understands," he replies. I smile with relief and see him smile as well. I hear a door open, and alert him to the fact that company's coming.

"Looks like Ankle-Biter's up!" I say, as Cody enters the room. The smart child had seen his clothes in the hall and put his shirt on. He grins. I continue. "Uncle Zach's gonna make us dinner, and I have a special surprise for dessert!" I exclaim, remembering the promise I'd made to myself about giving him ice cream.

"Yay!" he responds. "This is the best day ever!" _I couldn't agree more, Codes._


	13. Chapter 13

Zach grabs Cody and throws him over his shoulders.

"I guess I can make something out of this sack of potatoes," he jokes, poking his nephew, who is giggling hysterically.

"Mashed po-Code-oes, my favorite!" I join in. Cody squeals as we rush through my room and down the stairs. Zach sets him down and begins to rifle through the fridge and pantry, finding things I had no clue were there, pulling out ground beef, different kinds of beans, some onions I vaguely remember purchasing when I'd arrived, and other ingredients. I lean back against the counter as Cody recognizes what the recipe items add up to and screams aloud.

"Chili!"

"That's right, Buddy," Zach confirms with a smile. He's in his element, browning hamburger, slicing tomatoes, and putting beans on to boil. Cody quickly gets bored.

"I'm goin' back to the Bat-Cave," he announces and takes off up the stairs, slamming the door to his new lair.

"I'll talk to him about properly closing doors," Zach declares, exasperated, as he pulls out a large pot to put on the stove.

"Hey, he's a kid. It's fine."

"Even kids should have good manners, you know?" he replies, looking at me as he pours diced veggies into the pot. He's so serious and so young himself to be taking on preparing his nephew for life. My heart aches for little Zach, who didn't get to be a kid nearly long enough. Having been in a similar situation, I can appreciate his position. I definitely feel I've lived vicariously through some of Gabe's teenage exploits that I never got to experience because I was man of the house at an early age. Codes is too young for Zach to do the same thing, but that doesn't mean I can't encourage his mischievous inner child to come out and play more.

"One good thing about his banging through doors," I begin, sliding my way toward him, "is that you always know where he is," I finish, ending next to the stove and him. I grab his hip and pull him to me. He looks like he wants to argue, but I am only human and I need to kiss him in the worst way. Before he can say a word, I put my finger over his mouth. "After chili, we might not want to do this, or have the opportunity," I explain, looking him directly in the eyes. Understanding dawns on his face. I lean in and press my lips to his, while simultaneously pulling him closer to me. We're hip to hip, and I'm happy to realize that I excite him the same way he excites me.

He finally gives in and wraps his hands around my skull, pulling me into the kiss, which is getting deeper. I thrust my tongue in his mouth as I pull him even tighter, leaning my backside against the counter in an effort to bring him closer. We're full-on making out like teenagers and it's made even sexier by the fact that we could get "caught" any second. He pulls away and kisses my jaw line as I rub my hands up and down his back, sliding them under the too-big sweater I lent him and kneading his back muscles as he reaches my ear, pulling my earlobe between his lips, running his tongue along its edge. This man is driving me nuts. He gives it a quick little bite then moves down my neck to my shoulder. The wide neck of my own sweater gives him easy access and he continues along my collarbone. I kiss his temple as my hands continue their trek up his spine.

Eventually we pull apart and he notices the beans are done and need to be strained. He attends to dinner prep as I try to cool down. We ended at the perfect time because the door slams open and Cody runs back downstairs.

"Hey are you gonna make cornbread too?" inquisitive Cody doesn't notice his uncle's disheveled appearance.

"Already working on it, kiddo," Zach replies, gesturing to a bowl of other ingredients I hadn't noticed before.

"Cool!" Cody takes off back upstairs. The door slams again.

I start to feel bad he's putting so much effort into dinner and I've just been treating him like a sex-object, but the look he gives me when we hear the door tells me he doesn't mind so much. Before we resume kissing, I offer up my culinary expertise.

"I can help…" I propose, wondering how hard it can be to stir a pot.

"Uh, thanks dude, but I got it under control," he turns me down, gently. I'd feel offended, but it's hard to feel that bad with a hot young surfer artist putting the moves on you. Every few minutes he pulls away from me to stir or add something or pull something from the oven, but within moments, it seems, a simmering pot of delicious-smelling chili is on the stove next to a pan of golden cornbread. _I could get used to this._ Instead of calling down Cody immediately, he grabs hold of my waist, and lays his head on my shoulder. I kiss his crown and we stand like that for several minutes.

"Thanks, you know, for today," he whispers into my chest.

"Thank _you_ for today," I whisper back. "It's been pretty perfect."

"I mean, with Cody, and everything," he continues. He won't look at me, but just keeps his face down, his head on my heart. I bring my hand to his jaw, gently pulling his face up so we're looking at each other.

"Part of what made today so perfect _was_ Cody," I explain. He smiles. "Not that I'm _not_ eagerly anticipating Jeanne's return so I can get you all to myself, but I don't begrudge you any time spent with Cody."

"Big words Mr. Writer-Man," he blushingly attempts a lame joke, and I wonder if it's to break the serious turn the conversation has taken.

"I'm sure you can understand, Scholarship-Boy," I grumble and give him a final kiss before calling Cody down for dinner.

I grab a couple beers from the fridge, along with milk for Cody and we sit down to eat. After the meal, Zach attempts to do the dishes, but I shoo him away, telling him the cook doesn't clean, besides, we still have dessert to eat. Cody cheers as I pull ice cream out of the freezer. I grab some bowls, the chocolate milk syrup, and some sprinkles I found in the pantry out and we get to work on making sundaes. We finish those, and I invite Codes to help me clean up.

"Hey Ankle-Biter, wanna help me with dishes?" He looks doubtful, but enthusiastic, and tentatively agrees. I pull a chair up to the sink, which is being filled with warm sudsy water. Cody crawls up and I hand him a scrubber. We make a system of him doing an initial scrub-down then I finish rinsing and put the dish in the washer, working companionably, splashing back and forth while Zach finishes his ice cream. I look over at him and grin after Cody attempts popping a big bubble and almost falls into the sink trying to reach for it. He looks so peaceful and content.

As they're getting ready to head home, Zach brings up tomorrow.

"Hey, uh, do you wanna, that is, if you're free I mean, come over tomorrow afternoon?" he invites.

"Yeah, that'll work," I respond, "I'll get my work out of the way in the morning and head over at, say, one or two?" I'm curious as to what he's got planned.

"Cool," he replies with a smile, then changes subjects. "And Jeanne's scheduled to get back either late tomorrow night or early Monday morning. I have an early shift at the diner that morning, and am totally free after that," he explains with a sly smile.

"Yeah," I agree. "That'll work."

They pack up shortly after, and I wave from the door as Zach gets in his car after buckling Codes in. I begin anticipating having my way with him Monday afternoon, congratulating myself on being so patient as I begin to shut the door. But then he pops out of the Jimmy and runs back up before I get it closed.

"Cody forgot his bucket," he explains, heading to grab it and the shovel out of the canvas bag I'd left by the French doors from our afternoon excursion. As he heads back out, he grabs my face and plants a hard kiss on my mouth. Then he squeezes my ass and runs back outside to his nephew. _Oh you're _getting it_ on Monday, dude!_


	14. Chapter 14

After they leave, I decide to put in a few hours of work since nothing got done on that front today, and I'll only have the morning tomorrow. An hour into plugging away on the laptop, I hear the walkie-talkie, which Cody had brought down from my room.

"Cody to Shaun!"

"Codes! What's up man?"

"I'm goin' to bed now," he declares. "But I wanted to say 'good night' to you! Sleep well Shaun!" he exclaims. My heart swells with affection for this sweet boy.

"Sleep well, Ankle-Biter!" I choke out. All of the sudden, Zach's got the radio.

"Hey it's me," he says.

"Hey you," I reply.

"I'm gonna text you our address and directions for tomorrow," he offers, then sputters out: "Sleep well, Shaun."

"Sleep well, Zach."

The next morning, I go for a quick jog then get back to work. After a while, I make a few phone calls checking in with various friends and associates in LA. I'm supposed to head back there, back home, in about a week and a half. Thus far, my time in Long Beach has been this perfect little gossamer bubble that I don't want to let pop. I want to protect this fragile new creation, but I'm unsure how. The past few days have been so busy and wonderful and unexpected. I _like_ Zach, _really_ like him. I mean, I've always liked him, but the man he's become is stunning. I know I just got out of a relationship, and I'm in no way ready to define what this is, but I know I want to give it a chance.

That being said, I'm definitely aware it won't be easy. Zach's younger. He's essentially raising a kid. He's not out, and I don't even know where he stands on his sexuality. He's got a family I'm sure would be less than ecstatic about him being gay, and they have a lot of influence on his self-image and choices. He's my brother's best friend, and while I doubt Gabe will care about the gender of who his best friend chooses to sleep with, he _may_ care if that person is his own brother, and his is another opinion Zach takes very seriously. Add that up, and it might seem too daunting to approach, but Zach is greater than the sum of his circumstances, and I've always been lousy at math.

Noon rolls around and I shut the laptop and stretch. Should I bring anything with me? I don't even know what we're going to do. I gather my phone, wallet, and keys and head out the door. The drive to San Pedro is only about 20 minutes, but the drive takes me back to when I used to live here as I see so many places I remember from when I was growing up. I pass my old grade-school, the Oceanette Grocery, where the kids would hang out in the parking lot. Apparently some things have changed; there are no kids loitering around. I turn a corner and pass a liquor store with some familiar looking graffiti on the side wall. It's not the spray painted industrial street scenes I've seen stenciled around town-this is more whimsical shapes bursting outward-but I'm pretty sure it's the same artist.

I pull up to the address Zach had texted. It's older, and anyone passing by could tell a kid lives here, as there are a few toys in the yard. I walk to the side door, and can see what must be Zach's studio in the back. There are tables, tarps covered in different colored paint spatters, jars of paint, and brushes. Seeing this relieves me. He is passionate about his art, so I'm not just harping on a lost cause. We are _going_ to discuss this topic, today.

I ring the doorbell, and the door is thrown open by an eager Cody.

"Hi Shaun!" he greets me with the goofiest grin and a hug. With a welcome like that, who wouldn't be totally charmed? Part of the bubble I hold so dear is Cody. When I first met him, I saw a mini-Zach, and while I still can see best aspects of his uncle's personality and mannerisms in him, he's also very much his own awesome and amazing independent person.

"Hi Cody!" I reply, putting my hand on his head as he squeezes me. Zach appears as I enter the living room and shut the door.

"Hey Shaun," he drawled with a grin, looking freshly showered and so good. "I, uh, just got off the phone with Gabe, you know? He suggested I call you to go surfing because you're staying in Long Beach for a while." At this bit of grown-up talk, Cody rolls his eyes and takes off to the yard. Zach continues. "According to your mom, by way of Gabe, they're worried you need to be on suicide watch?" he pronounces, with a questioning look. _Oh God._ "Gabe said if you do kill yourself, to please do the classy thing and use pills or some other method that won't, and I quote 'leave June on her hands and knees scrubbing, 'cause she's getting old and that's just not hot.'" Well, this is _one_ way to start the day's activities. I consider ways I can classily kill Gabe so June's not put out or objectified by the ghost of my dead jerk brother.

"Uh, dude, have I appeared suicidal or even slightly sad any of the time you've seen me?" I question him.

"Relax man," he eases me, putting his hands up. "I'm just the messenger! I know you're sane and relatively happy."

"Very happy," I insist. He smiles, as well he should, as a contributing factor to said happiness.

"Very happy," he repeats.

"Now that we've got that cleared up, what's on today's agenda?" I enquire.

"Um, nothing really special," he begins. "I thought we could take Codes to the park down the way then maybe watch a movie. And I made lasagna."

"Sounds perfect."

Cody comes inside and we walk to the park. We pass the liquor store, and I point out the art on the wall.

"That looks pretty cool," I exclaim, pausing in front of the art, looking slyly at its creator.

"Yeah, I guess," Zach replies, blushing. So he's not going to take responsibility.

"Someone pretty talented must've done it," I push, hoping he'll confirm.

"Mmm, it looks like a work in progress to me," he retorts. I'm sure that this is all I'll get out of him, but it's an admission of guilt in my eyes.

"Well, whoever the artist is, I hope they're continuing their art education," I finish. He rolls his eyes at me.

"Maybe they're filling out applications and would be quicker about it if they weren't entertaining, uh, eccentric older men all the time," he gripes. What a punk—the only reason I'll forgive him for calling me old is because he's filling out the paperwork. Laughter erupts from me, and Cody looks surprised, having not understood most of our exchange.

We continue on to the park, which is a few more blocks down the road. Cody takes off for the swings. As we head in that direction, I begin talking.

"I was with my ex for a couple years. A few weeks ago I walked in on him and my best friend and our neighbor in, um, a compromising situation."

Zach inhales sharply. "Oh, that sucks," he sympathizes.

"Yeah. I think, subconsciously, I knew for a while it was ending, but it sure came as a surprise that day," I admit. "I find myself missing my friend more than Rich, my ex. I miss not having someone to confide in, you know?" I admit, thinking it would be nice to chat with someone about this _thing_ I have going on with Zach.

"Definitely," he agrees. It dawns on me that he can't really bring up our situation to Gabe, so it looks like we're both in the same boat.

We reach the swings, both quiet with our thoughts. Cody jumps off and heads to the slide, which is nearby. I grab a swing and sit down, beginning to pump back and forth, swinging higher and higher. Zach sits down at the next swing, digesting what I'd opened up about. He begins to swing. He's slow and sure with his pumping eventually reaching the same heights I'm at. Soon, we're simultaneously flying through the air in sync. I see Cody sitting at the top of the slide. He waves to us and hurls himself down it for what must be the thirtieth time.

Swing therapy comes to an end. The physical exertion is just what I needed after sharing time. Cody darts from one feature to the next, the tunnels, the merry-go-round, the see-saw. He plays well with other kids and engages them in conversations, encouraging them to join him in whatever activity he's doing. The sun begins its trek down the western side of the sky. Zach calls Cody and lets him know he's got five minutes left to play.

We begin our way back to their house. On the route, I notice a shop with a sign for sno-cones in the window. I get Zach's attention and gesture to it. He nods.

"Hey, Ankle-Biter," I declare, startling Cody. It's been a quiet walk home. "You're probably too tired for a sno-cone, right?" I query. He lights up.

"No, I'm not too tired Shaun!" he assures me.

We enter the shop. There are at least 20 different flavor options for the icy treats, and Cody insists on knowing the full list before making his selection, settling on a putrid green one called "Lime-onator." I choose the subdued maroon-colored "Cherry Berry Blast," and Zach picks the bright _red_ "Very Strawberry." I pay for our cones and we amble out the door.

We reach their house just as the sno-cones are being polished off. Cody's face is half green and when he smiles his teeth look yellow. I stop abruptly and give him a "startled" look.

"Oh! Where's Cody? All I see is a goblin!" I exclaim. He giggles, not quite knowing what to make of my joke.

Zach joins in. "What happened to our Codes?" he asks. _Our Codes._ "You can't be him, you fearsome green beast!" he continues. Cody rolls his eyes at us, but heads to the bathroom. We can tell the instant he gets it because he begins laughing hysterically. Eventually he calms down, and creeps back out to the living room, where we've settled down on the couch. I can hear him crawling behind the end table but pretend not to notice. All of the sudden he pops up, growling with his arms above his head making claws with his hands. His uncle and I cower in fear, and this is apparently this is so funny to him, that he can't continue the scary monster act any longer because he's laughing so hard he has to hold his belly. I shake my head, laughing and exchange a glance with Zach, who's doing the same thing.

Cody calms down and eventually settles in between us on the couch after washing the green away. Zach leaves momentarily to put the lasagna in the stove and Codes doesn't seem to notices because he's become so engrossed in the trailers leading up to movie Zach popped into the DVD player. Tonight's feature: the original _Toy Story_. It's clearly a favorite because Codes can recite a good percentage of the movie. Two-thirds of the way through the show, dinner's ready, and though they don't normally, Zach deems it a special occasion and serves dinner on the coffee table and not in the dining room so we can finish the film.

The movie ends, and Zach gathers a drowsy Cody up to get ready for bed. I finish my dinner while he's preparing the child for sleep. I swallow my last bite when I'm summonsed to their bedroom. Even Zach's room is a piece of art. He's got huge black and white posters of photos of various industrial images and cityscapes wallpapered around his bed. Throughout them, and extending onto the headboard itself, are black and white designs with red squares and shapes providing pops of color throughout.

"That's awesome," I encourage, nodding my head in the direction of his side of the room. Zach blushes.

"Sleep well, Shaun," Cody offers, half asleep already.

"Sleep well, Cody," I recite back.

"Sleep well, Zach."

"Sleep well, Codes." We exit the room and Zach quietly closes the door.

We sit back on the couch, and Zach flips through channels. He asks if I have a preference and I shake my head. He settles on some car chase movie, and clears the dishes from the table. I offer to help but he insists he'd just throwing them in the sink for later. He returns with a bowl of popcorn, which makes me think of movie theaters and making out in them. I wait until he's fully engrossed in what he's watching and make my move, kissing his jaw. He looks a little surprised, but goes along, sliding his had along my face as we kiss. He tastes buttery, and I smile as his tongue enters my mouth. Suddenly he stops and pulls away, setting the bowl on the table.

I don't know if my playground confessions prompted this or what, but he opens up about his past and feelings. "I've been dating Tori since I was 14," he begins. "I've known her my whole life, even longer than you and Gabe." I nod encouragingly. He obviously needs to get this out. "We break up sometimes but we've _always_ gotten back together. I didn't know why we couldn't seem to stay together. I mean, I _love_ her, she _loves_ me," he looks at me while he says this. I continue to nod. I get it, and I respect their love for each other. "So why couldn't I be happy with that? I always found a way to ruin this perfectly good thing we had going. Then I'd feel like a total jerk, 'cause she's awesome," he blurts out. This is more than he normally says at once, so I stay silent and let him continue.

"When you watched Cody on the beach that day, we ended it, like, for good ended it. And I felt like such a shit for stringing her along but I didn't know. I didn't know! But I'm jealous of whoever she does end up with, because that person should be me but I don't want that. I don't want it anymore but I don't want that asshole Billy with her." I begin to just pat his back. Coming to terms with your true self isn't easy, and I absolutely agree with the bit about Billy.

"And then there's you. You were such a surprise but at the same time I knew what I was doing. I think I kind of, like, in the super-secret back of my brain have been waiting for you, or maybe not you but someone awesome who gets me and understands it all, so I guess that _would_ be you. And the past few days have been great and you've been great and Cody adores you. But this can't be real life, I mean, you've got your life in LA that you'll go back to and I have my life here and, I mean, I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop or something because everything has been so fucking perfect, except for hurting Tori. I hate that. Does any of this make any sense, or are you seriously afraid I'm the suicidal one now?"

I gather him in my arms and pull him into my lap, rubbing his back. "It makes perfect sense."


	15. Chapter 15

It's clear to me Zach's art is a reflection of his inner thoughts and feelings. The images on the liquor store wall begin to make sense. An explosive many-armed being or a road going in crazy directions, some arms reaching out with no ending, others with abrupt stops, and still others folding in on themselves: a visual interpretation of what he's just opened up to me about. I get it. My last book was pretty much a text-splosion of the issues I was dealing with when I wrote it. I can only offer my empathy, my support, and my comfort, so I just continue to hold him.

We sit there like that for a few seconds, before he grabs the sides of my face and plants a kiss on my forehead. I smile and he slides his butt out of my lap keeping his legs over mine and his hand on my jaw. He directs my face to his direction by caressing it, running his fingers over my lips. He leans in and we continue making out. It seems like he's unburdened a bit with his acknowledgment, as his attitude is playful. He traces kisses on my eye lids, down the slopes of my nose, and across my face, the whole time his fingers draw invisible images on my chest. Finally his mouth reunites with mine, our tongues wrestle each other for dominance, and his fingers begin getting clawing at my shirt. I pull away for a second.

"Oh, we're gonna play dirty, eh?" I ask with a grin. In answer, he gets up, and puts his knees on either side of my waist, straddling me, and we kiss. The rules have obviously changed, so I grab his hips, and slide my fingers up under his shirt. His tongue takes control as he uses his fingernails to graze my arms, causing goose bumps. In retaliation, I use my knuckles and rub under his navel, but don't travel any lower than the waist of his jeans just hovering. He groans and I'm in charge. At some point it goes from playful to hot. He's rubbing his crotch over mine and I'm getting too excited to have a sleeping 5 year old in the vicinity and I lose control to him. I shove my hand up his shirt and gently run my finger over his chest, latching on to his nipple. I can tell this affects him as he inhales quickly, and I'm back to calling the shots.

He starts rocking his hips over mine, and my hands leave his chest and dive down his back, into his boxers and I'm grateful he wears his pants baggy. I grab his ass as he rocks. And I'm straining against my jeans. This is madness. I blow into his mouth, and his cheeks puff out, his eyes show his surprise.

"When does Jeanne get back?" I implore, desperate to do more than _just_ kiss this man.

"Late tonight or early tomorrow morning."

"Not soon enough," I gripe, but then feel bad. I never want him to feel bad or guilty about Cody. "Hey, I didn't mean to say that I haven't had a blast with Cod…" Zach cuts me off.

"I know. I have no doubt about your affection for Codes. But we all could use a little grown-up time and I'm, uh, definitely anticipating my sis' return just as much as you, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," I reply. "But if I stay here much longer, I'll explode. What time is your shift tomorrow?" at this point I'm desperate to know, creating a mental countdown till I can get busy with him.

"Five to eleven," he replies with a smirk. "Then I'm all yours." _Amen!_

"Well then, I'd better head home and get some rest, after I take a cold shower," I give him a sardonic smile. He escorts me to the door, and I grab him and pull him in for a final kiss before leaving. It's just a peck, because if I let it get more involved, Jeanne will arrive before I'm ready to leave. "Sleep well, Zach."

"Sleep well, Shaun," he responds, and before the door clicks shut, he has to add one more word to drive me crazy: "Late." I can only shake my head at the gods who thought it would be funny to bring a professional writer together with someone who abuses the English language so cavalierly.

I stroll to the Subaru, hands in my pocket and smile on my face. _Tomorrow!_

The drive is quiet. As I reach the end of the Vincent Thomas Bridge, my phone rings. The digital display tells me it's someone I left mere minutes ago. I pray Zach's going to tell me his sister got home earlier than expected and he's heading my way.

"I haven't even had a chance for that cold shower yet, and I'm hoping that's a good thing," I answer, and suddenly I'm imagining sharing that shower with the man at the other end of the line.

"Yeah, about that," he opens, and I just know he's going to cancel. "Jeanne just called. She's spending an extra day in Oregon and won't get home till tomorrow night," he regretfully informs me.

"And she's just sharing this _now_, a _few hours _before she was supposed to be home?" I ask incredulously.

"That's Jeanne for you," is all he can say about it. "Poor Codes," he continues, as ever putting his nephew's needs ahead of his own. "He was looking forward to seeing her in the morning, and instead now he has to be woken up at 4:30 in the morning to hang out at the diner," he laments.

"No, no he doesn't," I insist. "If you're cool with it, I'll come by before you have to leave and hang out with him until you're off," I offer, convinced Cody shouldn't suffer because his mom's self-centered.

"Really?" he sounds shocked. "You'd uh, you'd do that?"

"Of course."

"Well, if you really don't mind, that'd be awesome. I just need to leave like, 15 minutes before my shift, so if you're here at 4:45 that should work," he relates.

"Got it, see you then," _at the ungodly time of 4:45._ The things I will do for this punk surprise even me. "G'night," I finish, yawning as I pull into the garage.

"Late, uh, later," he ends the conversation with an exasperated sigh. Hey, he's trying! There are things to be said for helping out, I realize, especially when it improves one's pronunciation.

The next morning arrives much too soon. Though I have no desire whatsoever to get out of bed, especially without the promise of an afternoon of sexy time with Mr. Zach, I pull myself up and throw some clothes on. I stumble down the stairs, out the door, and into my car, 12 minutes before I had scheduled myself to head out. With that extra time, I hit a drive thru coffee spot and get two cups of joe. I arrive back at their house two minutes early and darn proud of myself. Zach opens the door and lets me inside. I hand him one of the coffees.

"Thanks dude, I owe you," he whispers.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll collect payment when your sister finally decides to return to her life," I yawn deciding to head to the couch and catch as much shut-eye as possible until the boy wakes up. Before I can move, he kisses me on the nose.

"You're kind of cute when you're sleepy," he comments. I grab him and steal a real kiss before he takes off.

"You're too chipper," I conclude, and set my own cup on the coffee table before falling on the couch.

"Cereal's on top of the fridge. Car seat's on the back step in case you guys wanna go do anything. Sleep well, Shaun," and he closes the door.

Cody doesn't make a peep until just after 8:30. When he enters the living room, he's surprised to see me, and I explain that his mom will be gone an extra day and that I came back this morning to play with him while Zach is working. The easy-going boy takes it in stride, and doesn't seem surprised at all his mom didn't follow through. What shall we do this morning? Inspiration strikes.

"Hey, Ankle-Biter, how 'bout we head over to the diner for breakfast and see Uncle Zach?"

"Okay!" he agrees.

Cody gets dressed while I struggle with his car seat. I cannot, for the life of me, figure out how to anchor it in. I end up pulling the owner's manual out of the glove compartment and looking it up. Even with the step-by-step picture instructions, it's still 9:15 before we leave with Cody safely strapped in. We drive to the diner, and are seated at a small booth with a view of the kitchen. Zach hasn't noticed us yet, and watching him work-the intensity on his face—is so endearing. Every once in a while he will gaze at a wall, or really, beyond the wall, and smile. I can only hope it's not because he's admiring the décor.

The waitress takes our orders: chocolate chip pancakes, Mickey Mouse-style, for Cody (I should have known), and blueberry pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon for me. When he gets the receipt for our order, his head pops up over the counter and he smiles his sexy half-smile with one cheek when he sees us. Cody waves the classic surfer hang ten hand gesture and he waves it back at us.

The food arrives, and Cody's plate is a perfect stack of four uniformly-sized mouse heads. He digs in, his eyes alight with excitement. My plate, on the other hand, is a haphazard mess. It looks nothing like the other neat, carefully-plated meals he's been sending out. The pancakes are half-stacked and aren't round at all. The eggs are partially covering some of them, and the bacon looks like it was tossed on the plate at the last minute. There's not even a parsley garnish. I wonder if the waitress dropped it when I wasn't paying attention or something, and begin to repair the mess by organizing the foods as she leaves.

I push the eggs to one side, and set the bacon next to it. Upon removing the other elements of the plate, I notice that Cody's not the only one who got specially-shaped pancakes, _I got hearts._


	16. Chapter 16

I look over to the kitchen. Zach's working with a very self-satisfied grin on his face. He peeks over in our direction and starts to chuckle. I shake my head and look over at Cody, who's engrossed in his breakfast. I purse my lips and cut the bottom V off of one of the hearts, spearing it with my fork. I slowly open my mouth and pop it in my mouth, licking the bottom of my lip, keeping my eyes connected with his. I'm pretty confident I look sexy because Zach is enthralled, but an old lady at the next booth clears her throat, pulling my attention away. She's glaring at me like I'm some sort of whack job, and I'm so startled I start choking on the pancake. Instead of being hot, I must have looked like a total asshole. Zach is hunched over laughing as I cough up blueberry awkwardness. I proceed to eat the rest of my breakfast like a normal person-a _blushing_ normal person.

Cody finishes his pancakes and chocolate milk, and as I'm waiting for the waitress to bring the receipt, Zach takes a break from cooking and joins us. He's still got a smug grin on his face, and I can feel my cheeks going red again. I really can't pull off acting sexy and am old enough to know better.

"Did you, uh, like your breakfast?" he asks, trying not to laugh as he slides in next to Cody, who's been busy coloring since he finished eating. I have the choice to play off my coughing fit and be cool or go for sincerity.

"The food tasted great. And the pancakes were…" Several adjectives run through my mind: _adorable, inspiring, sexy, sweet, surprising._ "…unexpected, but definitely my favorite part." Suddenly I'm not the only one blushing.

"The pancakes are always the best part!" Cody chimes in, then returns to his picture. Zach ruffles the boy's hair as the waitress brings the receipt, which is quite a bit less than I had anticipated. I shoot Zach a questioning look.

"She, uh, took off part of the bill 'cause your plate was such a mess, you know? Asked if I was mad at you or something but then decided that couldn't be it since you've got Codes. I told her it was a joke but she still felt bad," he answers, shrugging his shoulders. "My break's up. I gotta get back to work but I'll be done soon and take the kid off your hands," he continues.

"No worries, man," I reply. "We had fun, just me and the Ankle-Biter this morning didn't we?" I ask Cody.

"Yup! Even when he couldn't get my car seat to work he didn't get mad at it like Mommy sometimes does," he responds without looking up from his coloring. "Shaun rocks," he continues matter-of-factly.

"It's true," I agree nodding my head. Zach laughs and shakes his head as he gets out of the booth. As he leaves, the waitress returns to collect payment. "Good one, with the messed up plate man," I laugh as he leaves, being sure she hears me. She smiles and looks relieved. I pay her and leave a ten dollar tip to make up for the fact that she'd worried about the food presentation. If all my meals had a sweet surprise like this morning's, I wouldn't mind their sloppy appearance.

Cody and I drive back to his house. He is eager to show me some of his toys so we head to the room he shares with Zach. He grabs a toy car and a stuffed caterpillar and begins to tell me about them as he plops down on his bed. I sit on the bed opposite from him and listen, in awe of his imagination and amount of detail he goes into on them, with complete back stories for each thing he presents, as well as how they interact with each other. As he winds down his story and begins to play, I use the time to examine the room and the art on the walls more closely. On Cody's side of the room, the wall is covered with tiny canvases with a familiar feel to them, but boasting more color and whimsy than most of Zach's art.

"Codes, did Uncle Zach make those paintings?" I enquire, pointing to one that features a monster of some sort.

"Yeah I tell him what I see in my dreams and he makes them into pictures!" he exclaims. "That way, he says it helps me when I wake up from bad dreams because when I see the pictures it reminds me they can't hurt me!" he continues. "And it works 'cause I don't get bad dreams no more! And sometimes he draws me in his books!" he continues, pointing at a stack of sketch pads sitting next to a jar of markers and pencils on top of some crates that had been re-purposed as a nightstand. I'm tempted to pour through them but decide against it because he's so secretive about his work. I spy the CalArts application peeking out between two of the books, and see it's been partially filled out. _Yes!_

"That's so cool, Half-Pint," I enthuse, touched by the friendly-looking monsters Zach created to help Cody keep his nightmares at bay.

"I like to draw people too," he affirms, dropping his caterpillar to run out and grab the pictures he'd colored at the diner. "Look, this is me and Zach and you at your beach the other day," he describes, pointing out one small and two taller stick figures around what appears to be a sand castle. "That's you and me forty-fiving and Zach is making the dragon on the side," he explains. He sets that sheet down and grabs another on featuring a lot of dark colors. "And here's us in the Bat Cave!"

I'm touched I made it into his drawings, and I can't quite say anything because of the lump that's developed in my throat, so I smile. I remember friends of mine who've started relationships with single moms. Like the character that Cuba Gooding Jr. plays in _Jerry Maguire_, they all have cautioned that you have to be sure about your feelings because you're not just involving an adult's heart and emotions. Zach is essentially a father-figure to Cody and it hits me that to enter into something official with this man, if that's what he even wants, will also include this boy in a capacity beyond most uncle-nephew relationships. I look at Cody, who's set his drawings aside and returned to playing with his toys. I look back at the college paperwork. How can both of these things fit harmoniously in Zach's life? Include me, and it seems impossible.

My life, my "real" life, is at least forty-five minutes away from here. CalArts is an hour away from here. Am I both "shoplifting the pootie," to borrow a line from Cuba, and encouraging the most stable person in Cody's life to pull away? I consider this, and am surprised that the idea of a real-life relationship with someone who for all intents and purposes is raising a child doesn't faze me at all. The idea of children was always a distant goal in an uncertain future, but swapping out mysterious-looking possible future-children with Cody's very present face and lovable personality makes it absolutely easy to envision that future and see it as a tangible possibility around the corner. Could Zach juggle schooling, his responsibilities to his nephew, and me when I'm back in LA? Does he even want to? Maybe I'm getting way too ahead of myself worrying about these things when I've literally spent one night with the guy. But I can't be the only one whose feelings are this strong, I mean, he made _heart-shaped_ pancakes.

Zach gets home and I shake off my heavy thoughts for later. He comes back to the bedroom and I'm suddenly very aware that I'm sitting on his bed. _When will Jeanne be back?_

"Hey guys," he greets us as he throws down his backpack and hops on the bed across from me, next to Cody. He picks up a disc of sex wax that was sitting on the nightstand and starts passing it back and forth between his hands. "What's up?"

"I showed my toys to Shaun and we looked at my dream pictures!" Cody exclaims.

"Cool, cool," he replies, then looks at me. "Hey if you need to, like, go or something, I understand." I consider all the work I've been putting off over the past few days.

"Yeah, I can definitely get some work done and out of the way," I concur. "Have you heard from your sister on when she'll be back?" I ask in an effort to estimate how much time I'll have to pound out some pages before Zach is free.

"I, uh, got a text a while ago. Said she was on her way but didn't say where she was at the time," he answers, shrugging. "Hopefully tonight, but it might be morning till she's back. Sorry."

"It's not your fault, man," I respond. "I'll head home and finish up some work I have so I'll have plenty of time to, uh…" I pause and look over at Cody, who's busy playing and not really paying attention, then at the wax in Zach's hand, "…wax your board later?" I finish like it's a question and realize it's filled with innuendo when a laugh bursts out of him.

"Sounds good dude," he shoots back with a smirk. "I can't wait for you to _wax my board_," he laughs.

"Oh, you're gonna love it," I joke back as I stand to go, determined to give him a taste of his own medicine. "I imagine your board needs a really good waxing, as it seems you haven't been doing it properly all these years. Master thinks Student has a lot to learn in ways of board-waxing and will have to spend long hours teaching."

"Student anticipated longboard-waxing lessons and got tomorrow's work shift covered," he replies with sly grin. _Hot damn!_

"Master is pleased that Student plans to be diligent in his studies. Is sure he will pick up the art of board-waxing quickly," I conclude. "Just call me when you're free, then," I finish before leaving.

"Will do. You want me to just, you know, head over?" he queries.

"Sure. You're welcome anytime."

"Cool. Late."

I shake my head as I leave. Apparently he'll only add the "-er" when I do nice things. When we're done with board-waxing lessons, he'll be adding "-er" to the end of every word he says!

I arrive home and jump on the computer. For whatever reason, I can't seem to focus on anything for more than ten minutes. I give up on getting any writing done and do some research on paranormal activity for the script. Within a couple hours of arriving home, the walkie-talkie makes a static sound. I anticipate Cody's voice but am surprised to have Zach at the other end of the radio wave instead.

"Student is ready to wax some boards," he states, and I feel a little giddy at this private joke we now share. It's so nice to be able to combine old ones like the Student/Master with new ones like board-waxing.

"Perfect," I reply, eager to see him solo. "Come on over when you can and we'll get started on those lessons," and then, in an effort to shake him up a bit, I add, "And Zach, make sure to bring that sex wax."


	17. Chapter 17

I wrap up the work I'd done on my laptop and grab the walkie-talkie. I was expecting a late-night or morning call, but I'm willing to take afternoon nookie, especially as I know Zach has all day tomorrow off. I smile, grateful I'd been so productive lately that these past days I haven't done much aren't upsetting the goals I'd set. I should be right on schedule when I return to LA, and my thoughts return to wondering what I'm doing with him and where we're going. We're at different points in our lives, and we're going to have to discuss the future sooner or later. I _like_ Zach, I really, _really_ like the man he's become, more so than most guys I've met over the past several years. Like he related during his couch confession, maybe _I've_ been waiting for someone who understand me and gets it all—someone like him.

"Oh, Andrews, you've got it _bad_," I say aloud to myself. I think of friends who are happily settled down with their significant others. Most of them say, along with characters I've written myself, that when you know, you know. And why wait or hold off when you've found The One? I always thought it was kind of a cliché, but it might be one of those life truths you can't fully understand or appreciate until you're in the eye of it. Regardless of where this goes, we clearly need to talk about it-after I have my way with him.

He arrives less than 30 minutes after our radio exchange with a quiet knock on the door. To say that butterflies have taken over my stomach is an understatement. Why am I so nervous? Or maybe it's just excitement that I finally have his undivided attention. I answer the door. He's got a shy half-smile and the sex wax in his hands. I notice it's coconut-scented.

"Uh, hi," he greets me, then looks down and blushes.

"Hi yourself. Didn't expect to see you until much later," I mention as I usher him inside.

"Yeah, I was surprised when Jeanne showed up. Grabbed my board and told her I was gonna hit the waves hard and probably won't be back till, uh, late tomorrow, you know? I mean, if that's okay with you, but if you have stuff to do I can go whenever…" he continues and his nervousness makes me less anxious. I caress his face with my palm to reassure him.

"Stay as long as you like," I declare with a smile. He looks relieved. I lean in and kiss him on the nose. "You're cute when you're nervous."

"Shut up!" he insists, as a full smile breaks across his face.

"So, what do you wanna do?" I ask, having fun just playing with him.

"Uh, pay you back for watching Cody this morning," he replies, getting into it.

"My babysitting fees are pretty high," I warn him. "Especially since I had to get up so early in the morning."

"I understand," he volleys back. "But it's just so hard to find good help these days; I'm willing to pay extra."

"I'm glad we see eye to eye on this," I finish and kiss him properly on the mouth. He wraps his arms around me and deepens the kiss. We continue for a few minutes. He grabs the hem of my shirt, and practical Shaun interjects before things get too hot. "Easy!" I begin, pulling back slightly but still staying in his embrace. "Easy! Let's talk for a minute before you pay me back!" I smile. "And let's go up to my room before the clothes start coming off this time." I grab the wax, which he's still holding and his other hand and lead him upstairs.

Zach sits on the edge of the bed and looks at me with very little patience. "What?" he questions, and it's obvious he isn't looking forward to this conversation either. I sit next to him and wonder where to start.

"From what you've told me, you've been with Tori pretty much for the past eight years, correct?" He nods so I continue. "You're a pretty loyal guy who obviously cares about her, so I'm assuming you never cheated on her? And certainly not with another guy?" He nods again, and then clarifies.

"I uh, slept with a few girls when we were broken up, you know? But I always used a condom," he confesses. "And yeah, um, no guys," he looks away as he says this.

"Good to know," I reply. "So how uh, familiar are you with men having intercourse with other men?" I ask, careful to word it without any specific terms. He's still processing where he fits on the Kinsey Scale and I don't want to pressure him to commit to a label he's not comfortable with. "Like, the logistics of it?" I clarify. _God this is awkward._

"Well, I've read your books," he confirms, blushing. "But, that's uh, pretty much it. I didn't really consider this um, happening really, and once it did I've been so busy, you know?" I mentally go through the steamy scenes I'd written and can feel a flush starting up my neck at the thought of him reading them. Well, at least they're pretty accurate depictions of what he can expect.

"What did you think when you read them?" I ask.

"Mmm, they were, um, hot. I kind of didn't know how to process how I was reacting so I pretty much avoided thinking about it until a few days ago. I re-read some of them over the past week," he finally looks at me while he's talking. "And when I imagined you and me like that, I had to take a cold shower." I swallow.

"How do you feel about, um, giving or receiving uh, anal penetration?" Eww, I sound like a high school sex ed teacher and basically want to die at this point, but don't break eye contact. I want Zach enough to bear through this uncomfortable conversation and I want his experience to be as awesome or better than our other night together so I need to know what he's comfortable with. "Basically I'm asking if you think you'd prefer to continue in the direction we took last time, or if you'd like to try bottoming—which would be receiving, or topping—which would be giving?" I rush the last bit out so fast I don't know if he could even understand what I said.

"Um, what do _you _normally, uh, do?" he asks, shifting the self-conscious spotlight on me.

"Normally, uh, normally I've bottomed but I don't mind topping. I'm pretty versatile," I reply. Apparently this piques his curiosity, because he's suddenly got questions about my past, which his only fair considering he'd been pretty open and honest about his own.

"Like, uh, how many guys have you been with? When did you know you were gay? Have you ever been, you know, with a girl?" Oh God, where to begin. I decide to go with candid honesty so he knows as much about the person he's dealing with as I'm trying to learn about him.

"I've been gay for as long as I can remember. It's different for everyone, but I started coming to terms with it probably when I was about 16. I had my first kiss a year later and dated him for a while. We learned about all these things together, it was very trial-and-error with stuff we'd seen online. We broke up after a while and since then, I've had..." I mentally tally up all of my exes and sexual partners in categories, "...six big relationships in 13 years, a few minor ones, and uh, a handful or two of one-night stands during a couple of, um, slutty phases I went through." God I kind of sound like a man-whore compared to his numbers, but he _is _eight years my junior. "And I've always used protection," I thoughtfully add in. "Oh! I slept with a woman after a very drunken night in college but it hardly counts as I vaguely remember it. That's my sexual history in a nutshell," I offer.

He digests this information with a thoughtful look on his face. _What is he thinking?_ After a moment's reflection, he grins and looks at me. "Master's been busy." I shove him back on the bed and he has the nerve to giggle. Oh he is _getting it_! No more Mr. Sensitive Shaun. I stand up from the bed, lean over and grab his belt, unbuckle it, and pull his jeans down. He grins, as I pull my shirt off and begin to pull at my pants but sits up and grabs my hips, nuzzling my stomach. _Oh God._ He kicks off his flip-flops and jeans which had pooled around his ankles. He pulls his own shirt up over his head and I grab it to toss on the floor with everything else. As I'm discarding his shirt, he kisses my waist while he pulls down my pants. Between kisses, he looks up at me. I hold his face in my hands and just enjoy the view. _He is so beautiful. _

He grabs my ass and squeezes, my boxer briefs are the only barrier keeping it from skin on skin as he runs his fingers up and down my backside. I look at him and his eyes tell me he's nervous again. I nod my head, encouraging him to say or do whatever is on his mind. He finally speaks. "I think, I mean, I _want_ to fuck you."

"Then let's do it," I agreeably reply, completely turned on the way he owned it. "Let's play around for a while, with the intention that that's where we'll end up, okay?" He nods his head and I so I lean over to the nightstand and open the drawer where I'd stashed the condoms and lube as well as a couple things I'd had the good sense to pack when I left Rich. I grab a small bottle of massage oil and decide to start with some fun. With my back to him I pour a small amount of the oil in my hands and rub them together after setting the box of rubbers and lube on the stand. He pulls himself up against the pillows at the head of the bed as I grab the sex wax I'd dropped when the clothes started coming off. I smile at him, showing the disc of wax. "Time to wax your board," I chime, with a diabolical grin. His eyes open wide, but he's trusting and apparently turned on if the bulge in his boxers is any indicator. "Lay back," I instruct.

I pretend to fidget with the wax, then use an edge to lightly trace his abs, pecs, around his belly button, eventually ditching the coconut disc and replacing with my oiled hands. Zach moans the lower I get to his navel. I see he's ultra-sensitive there so I scoot down the bed so I can focus on his mid-section with my hands and my mouth. I kiss where my fingers had traced and he runs his hands through my hair and whimpers. He begins gripping the bedding so I look down at his boxers and casually mention his arousal.

"It seems you rather enjoy getting your board waxed," I declare with a smile as I look back up at his face. He rolls his eyes at me.

"Playtime's gotta be over dude," he remarks between clenched teeth. "I _need_ to be _inside you_." _Oh God_. I'm so turned on I can hardly think. Various methods run through my head, some of which I discard immediately—I want to see his face this first time, and I'm suddenly glad I've been surfing so much lately because my flexibility's improved since returning to Long Beach.

"Grab a condom and the lube," I grunt as flip onto my back and then lift my ass up and pull off my underwear. Zach does as he's instructed and rids himself of his own undergarment. He returns to me, crawling next to me. "Come here to me," I implore as I wrap my legs around his waist. He looks confused so I grab his face and kiss him, deeply. I finish the kiss, and whisper "I _need you_ to be _inside me_." He groans and I stretch my legs up from around him and prop them on his shoulders. Understanding dawns on his face and he looks at me to be sure. I nod, and point to the condom. "Go ahead," I encourage, and he rips the foil packet and sheaths himself. He looks at my ass, which is bared to him and vulnerable, then looks back at me. "Lube," I whisper. "Pour some on me there," I coach pointing to my hole. He does then looks back at me. "Now fuck me," I beg. His eyes get even bigger.

"I won't hurt you?" he asks.

"No, go slow at first and I'll be fine," I say confidently. He looks down at himself and rubs his dick between my ass cheeks. _Yes!_ My ass tightens in anticipation as his member strokes back and forth, spreading the lube around. I groan and he grabs himself and directs his sex to my hole. I take a breath and loosen my sphincter so he can enter. Slowly he penetrates me, stopping every few seconds to be sure. I nod. "I'm ready for you," I assure him and he plunges a few inches further. He looks back at me and I grab his face again and pull him in for another kiss. "You're doing great," I grin as I bite his lip. He thrusts further and I expand to accommodate his size. A couple more inches and he'll be in all the way. "Do it," I growl and he pushes himself as far as he can go. I clench and he groans and begins to tentatively drive himself into me. "Yes!" I enthuse and my encouragement is all he needs. He continues, slowly at first but building momentum.

I maintain eye contact with him as he continues, beads of sweat forming on his face. I pull him back to me and lick his forehead before kissing it. He begins pressing harder and I can feel him rubbing against my prostate. "Yes!" I groan, as I approach climax. I grab my cock and start pumping. Zach's groaning right along with me.

"I'm gonna come," he warns. I tighten my ass even more. "Oh, yes- oh my God!" he cries as we both continue toward climax. He repeatedly hits that sweet spot inside of me and I clench my ass as I come. It drips over my chest but I don't even notice because the release is so exhilarating and I'm watching his face, the face of this gorgeous man inside of me, as he joins me over the edge. "Shaun!" he shouts as he comes. I smile and kiss him before he can pull out. He collapses on me, which is slightly uncomfortable, as his shoulders are pressing my knees against my chest, but he's also there, which makes it better. He realizes how I'm stuck and pushes himself back up and begins to pulls out.

"Slow there, babe," I warn, and he takes care to gently pull his exhausted member out of me.

"Uh, sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you!" he apologizes, his eyes distraught at the possibility he'd caused any harm.

"It's okay, babe, you didn't," I reassure him and caress his cheek. He pulls the last inch out of my ass and collapses next to me. I stretch my legs out and grab a towel from the drawer to clean up the semen I'd gotten over me. As he's pulling the condom off, I notice some had gotten on his chest and go to wipe it as he tosses the used rubber in the trash can. He looks down to what I'm doing and as I wipe his chest, he grabs my wrist and brings it to his heart.

"Thanks," he whispers. "That was, uh, awesome, you know?"

"Yeah I know," I smile, and he lets go of my hand. I toss the towel on the floor and begin to burrow into the bed when he grabs me closer to him. He pulls me nearer still and I scoot myself to where he's trying to direct me. He's made room on his shoulder and I settle my head on his heart, enjoying the feel and sound of his heartbeat as it calms down.

"Babe?" he asks. I smile. The endearment came to me mid-coitus, so it must be divinely inspired, and I like it.

"Babe," I confirm.

"Babe," he allows, kissing the top of my head as we settle into sleep.


	18. Chapter 18

"**People live in each other's shelter." / "It is in the shelter of each other that people live."**

** Variations of an Irish Proverb**

I wake up a while later to Zach drawing on my back with his fingers. At some point mid-sleep, I had shifted to my side and had curled an arm and leg over Zach with my head still resting on his chest. I lay quietly, not alerting him to the fact that I'm up and just enjoy the mindless doodles he creates, the smell of his neck, his slow and steady heartbeat, and the quiet perfection of right now. Zach sighs and I hope it's the self-satisfied version rather than the what-the-hell-did-I-just-get-myself-into? kind. I peek up at him and he's got a smile, which makes me smile. My awakened status has been detected; he's stopped using my back as a sketch pad.

"I was just thinking…" he starts, as I hold my breath, waiting for bad news. "…that uh, you taught me how to skate and surf, about adverbs and adjectives, how to use the library, to avoid wine coolers, how to shave and the appropriate amount of cologne to wear, and China, among other things growing up. And I never really thanked you for any of that, you know?"

"S'okay," I reply, as it is really the only response I can come up with, confused on where this is going. I never wanted or expected thanks for any of that stuff.

"Well it's kinda funny," he pauses, and I look up at his eyes to get a read on his face. He looks contemplative. "That I never in a million years figured you'd show me how to…" he uses his hands to gesture us, together in bed, "…all this, and I thanked you immediately after." It hits me that for someone who's usually pretty reserved, speaking-wise, he's sure chatty after sex, when he sticks around. As someone who could easily spend all day in bed talking, this additional compatibility we have is an awesome bonus to being with Zach.

"Well," I reply softly after thinking about this for a few moments and composing my thoughts, "as a writer, I appreciate 'showing' versus 'telling,' so even though you didn't verbally thank me for helping you on your China report, you showed your gratitude by including me on your board of people in your life you were connected to."

"The red string of fate!" he exclaims, his eyes bright with understanding. "It brought us back together," he murmurs, stroking my back for a few seconds before stopping and lifting his head up to look at me. "Dude, did you think of me like this when I was ten?" he asks, again gesturing to the two of us together.

"Oh, gross!" I reply, sitting up and pushing him away. He is laughing so hard that he has to hold his sides, which I guess means he was joking. "How could you even _think_ that?" I shudder as I scoot away from the mad man I just slept with.

"Wait!" he cries between laughing gasps. "I was just kidding!" he pants, beginning to calm down. He moves to his stomach and pulls himself a few inches away from where I now am. "Seriously though, that was just a joke about our age difference. You're like, one of the best people I know. And I loved having you around when I was uh, growing up. What I mean is, when Jeanne had Cody, you were, uh, the inspiration for how I wanted to be as an uncle, you know?" I inhale sharply with a lump in my throat. How this man can simultaneously turn me on, squick me out, and give me one of the nicest compliments I've ever received in a matter of moments baffles me.

"Wow," I begin, humbled I'd had that kind of impact on young Zach. "You just showed me so much again right now." I touch his cheek. "The fact that I inspired you, in any way, to be the amazing adult in Cody's life that you are, means more to me than any sort of thanks or token of appreciation ever could, babe." I lean over and kiss his head.

"Uh, it's probably good you're not looking for thanks," he begins with a devilish look on his face. I'm interested to see where he goes with this now. "'Cause I don't think Hallmark has a card that says 'thanks for helping me grow up, and you're aces in bed,' you know?" _A mad man thinks I'm _aces_ in bed_. How to respond?

Inspiration comes to me, and I begin caressing his back. "Dude, do you _know_ what happens to ten year olds who sass their elders?" I query, running my knuckles down his spine. He looks at me, intrigued and ready for another round. I smile. This is going to be awesome. "They get a spanking!" I announce as I slap his ass. I begin laughing and jump up out of the bed to avoid retaliation, eager to see his reaction. He's quietly snickering, and the sight of my handprint on his butt turns me on. "I'm gonna hop in the shower," I begin, anticipating the best bathing experience ever. "If you really want to show your thanks, I suggest you join me." I turn around and walk to the bathroom without a second glance, smiling when I hear the bed shifting as he crawls out.

As I turn the water on and adjust the temperature, I realize some things. No one I've ever been with has kept me on my toes the way that Zach does. The back-and-forth between serious and hysterical, thoughtful and ridiculous, silly and sincere is both mentally and emotionally as stimulating as he is physically stimulating to me. I haven't laughed so much, been so challenged to come up with a quick retort on the fly, or had so many tender quiet moments with anyone as frequently at the start of a relationship as this one. Maybe that's why this feels different and more intense. Or maybe it does have something to do with the fact that I've literally known him almost half my life. Once the water's an acceptable temperature, I turn around to Zach and grab his waist, pulling him to me in a hug. I don't have the words, or maybe I'm hesitant to say them, but I hope this embrace will show him what I can't say.

My emotional moment clears and I let him go, smiling. He's looking at me with curiosity, so I speak. "You, uh, you do weird things to me," I choke out. This is the best confession I can make right now. He smiles and the understanding is obvious in his face, but being Zach, he has to alleviate the heaviness behind those words, much to my gratitude.

"_I_ do weird things to _you_? Dude, you just _spanked_ me!" _Oh this man!_ I shake my head and gently shove him into the shower. I follow him in and close the door. I take a second to just appreciate watching the water sluice down his gorgeous body. "C'mere," he encourages me and I join him under the falling water. We share a few kisses before he pulls back with a silly grin. I inhale, curious to know what he's thinking. "So, would dropping the soap be _encouraged_ in this situation?" To reply, I grab the bar of soap from the soap dish and drop it.

He laughs and bends over to retrieve it. I lightly touch his backside where my palm print is barely visible. He puts the soap back and grabs a washcloth and bottle of body wash from the built-in bench on the far end of the shower, pouring a generous amount onto the cloth and squeezing it to produce suds. After setting the bottle down, he crouches down and begins at my knees, kissing here and there before rubbing with the soapy washcloth. He travels up my body, giving extra consideration to my thighs and dick, which has grown hard from his attentions. He adjusts to sit on the bench and takes me in his mouth and I groan as he begins sucking. My knees begin to feel weak as I near climax. I warn him that I'm about to come and he pulls away and stands up, grabbing my cock with his soapy hands, he strokes me until I come. I smile and kiss him, before he returns to grooming me. He sits back down and turns me around and finishes the backs of my legs, giving my ass a hard kiss and a bite before moving up to my back.

A few minutes later he's traveled up to my neck, which he's enthusiastically kissing. He concentrates on one area, scraping it with his teeth and sucking. I pull back and look at him. His self-satisfied grin assures me that I probably have a hickey. I roll my eyes and shake my head; this is what I get for fooling around with a 22 year old. I go to grab the washcloth to begin on him, but he shakes his head.

"Nope, that was me thanking you. No need for reciprocation," he assures me. I grab his face and kiss him. The water is starting to chill so we wash our hair quickly before it's too cold. I turn the water off and grab two towels, handing one to him as I start to dry off. I look in the mirror to check out the damage to my neck. It's more red than purple, and luckily at the very base of my neck so as long as I don't wear looser-fitting shirts in public, I should be fine. I wrap the towel around my waist and pad out to the closet.

"What else are we gonna do today, babe?" I ask, going through my clothing options.

"I dunno, I thought maybe we could go tagging? That is, if you're not too tired to run?" he jokes.

"Sounds good," I reply, picking a long-sleeved red shirt that should provide adequate hickey coverage and another shirt to go over it. I come back out and Zach's grabbing his clothes off of the floor.

"I uh, didn't think to pack stuff before I left," he explains. I smile.

"Feel free to borrow anything you'd like," I encourage, gesturing to the closet. He chooses a plaid shirt and some jeans. The thought of him wearing my clothes is a turn-on. I go back into the bathroom after changing and grab the extra toothbrush I'd purchased. I toss it to him as he enters the bathroom. I grab the tube of toothpaste, applying some to my own toothbrush before offering it to Zach. He takes it and opens the box containing his new red brush, discarding the packaging before putting toothpaste on it. We brush our teeth in relative silence. After we finish, he sets his next to mine in the holder by the sink. The image of the two of them together in the cup makes me smile. I am turning into a sappy dork.

Zach puts his hand on my cheek and kisses me. "Minty." He smiles as his hands roam down and slip into my jeans, where he squeezes my ass.

"Fresh," I reply, shaking my head. If he keeps this up, we won't leave the room, not that that's a bad idea. "Let's get outta here."


	19. Chapter 19

We head downstairs and out to Zach's car, where he's got a crate with cans of spray paint, stencils, and other art supplies hidden under a vest, along with a backpack, his surfboard, and a skateboard. We get in the vehicle and he heads to a nearby harbor and parks. Throwing a few cans into his bag, he lines the inside of his vest with a couple of stencils and puts a half-empty roll of orange painter's tape in his pocket. Grabbing his skateboard, he closes the hatch. Clearly he's done this before. I shake my head and smile as we head from the parking lot toward a shopping area. He's in his element.

He rides his board slow enough that I can easily keep up, so I just follow along. We pass some other pedestrians and he turns to a side street which seems more vacant. He slows down at a shop that had been boarded up and looks around quickly as I approach.

"Keep watch, okay?" he whispers, pulling out a stencil of the bridge that connects our towns. He grabs a can of brown spray paint and within seconds the Vincent Thomas Bridge graces the wall. He throws the can in his bag and takes off with the stencil cut out flapping in the wind as he speeds away. I love watching carefree artistic Zach. I catch up with him at a light and he's off again a few feet ahead of me. He approaches a cinder half wall and stops to crouch down. I'd been walking leisurely with my hands in my pockets just enjoying watching him act like a 22 year old but if he's preparing to tag, I need to be more alert. I squat down along with him with my back to the wall to be the lookout. He grabs the stencil of the cranes I'd seen around town and adds it to the wall. He jumps up and takes off, and it takes me a little longer to make my legs stretch back up considering the workout they got earlier.

We continue at this pace for another 20 minutes before he stops, pulling his ringing phone out of his pants. He mouths the word "Gabe" to me and I nod, pointing to myself and putting my finger in front of my mouth in the "shh" gesture. He plops down on the sidewalk and I sit next to him.

"Hey bro!" he answers. "Nothin' you know, just some tagging." He looks over at me and blushes. "Uh, no I haven't yet. I've been real busy. Jeanne went out of town so I've had Codes, you know?" He's fidgeting with the tape that he pulled from his pocket. I place my hand over his and squeeze. He looks at me, eyes opening wide, and wonder if he'll shake off the somewhat public physical contact. He doesn't. "I'm sure he's fine, dude. He's a grown man." Clearly Gabe's still worried about me. "Uh, yeah I will soon. But I bet your mom's just, like, worried 'cause she's so far away and can't do anything else from where she is." I roll my eyes and shake my head. He catches my hand in his and squeezes back.

"How's the…" he looks over at me then looks away, "…uh, pussy in SB?" he asks. I chuckle, quietly. "Yeah, that's cool, that's cool. Hey, be safe," he warns, and I love that Gabe's getting safety lectures from more people than just me. I can only assume that my brother's reply was one of his uncouth retorts because Zach's face sours into a grimace and he shakes his head. "Nah, I've been so busy I haven't had time to," he quietly responds. I wonder if Gabe's quizzing him on the "pussy in SP." "Hey dude, she's still my friend," he continues, most likely defending Tori from a guy who usually sees girls as disposable items.

Someone rides by on a bike across the street and Zach drops my hand, shoving it back in my lap. So he _is _still shy about PDA. I don't make a big fuss over it, but realize we're going to have to talk about it soon. Everything's been so great though, I hate to potentially spoil this perfect day. The sun has almost entirely set. "Yeah, okay dude. You too. Take is easy bro," Zach ends the call and looks at me.

"Sorry," he says.

"For what?" I ask, curious.

"I dunno. Lying to your brother makes me feel like shit. Talking about girls in front of you, uh, pushing you away," he lists, his face beginning to flush. He stands up, dusting off his pants and grabbing his bag. I consider briefly how to address these topics as I stand up, and then my phone rings. Gabe. Before I answer my brother, I want to let Zach know he's got my attention.

"It's Gabe," I say, gesturing to my phone. "I'm gonna answer, and we'll talk about what you just said after, okay?" He shakes his head and looks away. "Let's head to the car as I talk," I direct, before answering.

"Hey G, what's up?"

"Just checkin' in on you man, I haven't heard from you. Wanted to be sure you're okay and enjoying your swinging single life, bro!" he enthuses. _My swinging single life? _

"Yeah I've been good," I reply, shaking my head at his description. "Got a lot of writing done, you know?" He doesn't seem impressed.

"Dude, you're living on your own, in a fabulous pad. Why aren't you putting on your pink Gucci suit and hitting up all the fabulous gay bars I know you go to?" I look over at Zach. _That might be a good idea, bro. _Gabe continues, "Or hosting fancy cocktail parties that turn into orgies? Just lock my room if you do!" I'm suddenly _very grateful_ there were no linens on my bed when I arrived, aghast and what he'd probably been allowing to happen in there over the past four years. Luckily, Gabe doesn't expect answers to all his ridiculous assumptions, and moves on to other topics.

"Hey though, seriously, could you check in on Zach, I'm kind of worried about him," he begins. I look over at the object of his concern, who is looking slightly miserable at the moment.

"What's up with him?" I enquire. Zach looks up at me, curiosity sparks in his eyes.

"He broke up with his girlfriend Tori, I guess. I think he's taking it hard, though now his hook-up opportunities are endless," he explains, obviously perplexed by this. How Gabe can be sensitive enough to worry about his friend yet clueless enough to not understand why said friend might be hurting perplexes me, but that's my brother. "And I know you're getting over a break up so I thought you might have some insight or something," he continues. "But don't get all here's-a-shoulder-to-cry-on-have-you-considered-switching-teams on him, fuckin' recruiter!" he commands, and I choke a laugh out. Zach looks at me like I'm crazy.

"Got it," I confirm, rolling my eyes.

"Cool. Thanks bro," he replies. "Oh, gotta go, _Samantha_ is here!"

"Be safe!" I chime in before he hangs up.

"Yeah, yeah, you won't be a loner if you cover your boner!" _Where does he get this shit?_ I hang up, laughing. As insane as he sometimes drives me, his heart's in the right place, and he cracks me up.

We've almost made it back to the car. Zach's face is still slightly guarded.

"Is everything okay with Gabe on your end?" he quizzes me.

"Yeah," I reply, smiling. "Oh, I'll tell you about it in a bit." I pause as we reach the car, before getting in. Baby-Brother did give me an idea, but Zach has to be willing. "I still wanna talk about what you said after getting off the phone yourself, and I'm wondering if you'll join me at a bar I used to visit when I lived here more often," I begin, wondering if he'll understand _what_ kind of bar I'm referring to. He looks a little wary but not completely against it, so I push forward. "It's a short drive, and since it's still early it won't be too busy, but you won't have to jump every time someone walks by and I'm touching you," I encourage, with a smile. "And if you absolutely hate it, we'll leave, okay?"

"Yeah, fine. Whatever," he concedes. Not the most enthusiastic response, but I'll take it.

"Awesome," I grin. "I'll drive if you'd like," I offer, holding my hand out for his keys. He drops them in my hand and throws his stuff in the back, crawling into the passenger seat.

I start the car, and pull out of the parking lot. He's quiet and I don't intrude on his contemplation. A few minutes later we pull up to The Silver Fox. I was right, the happy hour crowd has left already and it's too early for the late night drinkers, so there are only a few people inside. The videos playing provide enough noise that we'll be able to talk privately. Zach keeps his head down and follows me to a table in the corner. A good-looking young cocktail waiter comes over as we sit down to take our orders. He introduces himself as Andr_é_ and I smile and order a beer. Andr_é_ looks to Zach for his order.

"Uh, the same is fine," he replies, not really looking anywhere but at the table. The waiter, not used to being ignored by clientele, speaks up.

"Are you sure I can't get you something _special_, sugar," he offers, full-on flirting. Maybe this was a bad idea. Zach is young and hot. He looks up for the first time, manners returned.

"No that's fine, just uh, the beer," he replies. "But thank you."

Before he leaves, Andr_é_ winks at Zach and quietly says "Well, you let me know if you change your mind, sweetie." He looks over at me as he says it, and flounces off.

"Uh, that was weird," Zach says. I laugh.

"He was hitting on you, babe," I smile, and grab his hands. He squeezes and I squeeze back. The beers arrive and I make sure to keep one hand with Zach's as I grab my wallet with the other to pay. _Back off, he's mine._

"So," I begin, "let's talk." He rolls his eyes, and takes one of his awkward sips of beer, so I continue. "First off, the Gabe Thing. I don't want to be any source of stress on your friendship with my brother. Regardless of what happens with us, he's got nothing to do with it and your relationship with him is obviously vitally important to the both of you, so if that means we keep it from him for right now, then it's your call, and I understand and support that." He nods understanding and takes another gulp, so I go on.

"That being said, I've been out for years, so hiding that aspect of myself isn't my style. I like being able to be affectionate, to a degree, in public without being refused." He looks down, so I squeeze his hands till he looks back up, and I smile, "But, you're a special circumstance, so how about we make a deal?" He looks intrigued. "Places like this, or where no one you know will be, I'm allowed to hug you, or hold hands, or whatever, but places where we would possibly run into your friends or Gabe's, or your family's I will contain myself from ravaging you." A slight grin begins on the left side of his face, and I'm getting through to him. _Yes!_ "You're free to be all over me at any time, but I think gratuitous PDA is tacky. Okay?" He nods and takes another sip. "Oh, and hickies, let's keep those to where polite society won't see them, as I get the feeling you seem to enjoy marking me." Zach blushes and I smile as he looks into his rapidly shrinking beer. "I don't mind you doing it; I just don't need to look like a teenager who can't control himself either," I joke. His blush settles and he grins. "Do you have anything to add?"

"I can't talk about this to Gabe right now, so thanks for understanding, you know?" I nod. "I, uh, _think_ I can deal with what you suggest."

"Good, bro," I support, as I try to remember what else had disheartened him after the phone call. "And dude, you're _allowed_ to talk about girls in front of me, okay? I _get_ that this is new to you, and I respect your past with Tori, as well as what the future holds for your friendship with her." He sighs. "And about that, how are you feeling about being with a man versus a woman, if you don't mind my asking?" He inhales sharply. "I don't expect you to have definite answers, but just generally speaking, you know?" I encourage as he takes another swig of beer.

"I've uh, got a lot going on in my life, so, you know, I want to be like, totally sure about any changes I make. So, I don't know, quite yet, exactly what I think or how this…" he squeezes my hand, "…fits, but I'm happy right now. As for, uh, the future, I mean, I don't know! You're in LA and I'm here, so where could this go, you know? Uh, once your place is ready, you're not gonna want to come out here are you? And I don't have time to travel to you all the time either." He looks down with hooded eyes. "But, the past few days have been, uh, very different than any time I was with Tori. We don't fight…" he points back and forth between the two of us, "…the way she and I did-still do. And you don't mind me being silly when she would get all pissed about it," he continues, this time taking a slower sip. His ears suddenly turn very red, and I'm eager to know what he's thinking. "The uh, sex stuff has been mind-blowing," he finishes his beer off and looks into the empty bottle. _Aces._

I pass my hardly-touched beer to him in an effort to keep him in his comfort-zone. "Well, I think so too," I smile. "And as for when I'm back in LA, how about we worry about when it happens?" I offer. He takes a sip. "I'm happy right now, just like you. Instead of borrowing trouble, by worrying about the future-commute us being together would lead to, why don't we focus on enjoying now—I want to be with you, you want to be with me, no labels, until you're ready."

"Okay," he agrees and smiles, a _real_ smile, his first since Gabe's call. "Oh! Also, Gabe's worried about you too," I confess. He looks startled.

"What, uh, what did he say?" he enquires, taking another big swig of beer.

"That you'd just gotten out of a relationship so I should check in on you, but, uh, not to try to get you to switch teams."

"It's a _little_ late for that threat," he cracks, finishing off my beer much calmer than he'd started it. I lean in to him and he leans in as well for a brief kiss. _Success._ He pulls back, with his silly face, and I'm relieved to have him back from the dark place he'd been. "Don't let my friend Andr_é_ see us kissing!" he whispers, and I know for a fact, he's worth the commute.


	20. Chapter 20

Andr_é_ approaches and asks if we'd like another round, so I look to Zach for confirmation on what he'd like to do. He nods and we get two more beers. It's clear Zach's more comfortable because he nurses this one slowly. He begins to look around and take in his surroundings. Video screens are showcasing various video clips throughout the building, and a couple of patrons are saddled up to the bar. Another couple are in a darker corner making out, possibly doing more, their hands all over each other. Zach gestures in that direction.

"Gratuitous?"

"Definitely," I concur. He smiles, and I can see his mind clicking away at something. He stands up and between his barstool and mine, grabbing my knees to swing me around so he's between my legs. Putting his hands on my cheeks, he pulls me into a kiss, running his tongue across my lips until I open them. I grab his waist and let his tongue inside. As soon as I do, he pulls back, grinning ear to ear. He grabs his beer and takes a sip, remaining where he's planted between my knees.

"Gratuitous?" _Button-pusher!_

"Borderline." He smiles and continues kissing me, this time with no tongue, several quick kisses between sips of beer. He sets the bottle down and begins kissing my jaw, working his way up and under my ear, nipping my lobe with his teeth. I am so turned on I can barely swallow. I pull him closer so he can feel the response against his abdomen. Against my neck, I can feel his grin.

"Gratuitous?" he innocently whispers.

"What are you doing to me?" I groan into his shoulder.

"Weird things, I imagine," he replies with twinkling eyes. "Rather than telling you, I thought I'd show you, and uh, Andr_é_ and everyone here, that I am definitely, without a doubt, a member of Team Shaun."

My stomach clenches and I suddenly realize, that I am definitely and without a doubt, in love with this crazy, hilarious, conflicted, big-hearted, talented, sharp, amazing man.

And while this news isn't unwelcome, it's certainly early and unexpected. I vow to keep it to myself for now, considering our agreement on enjoying now and no labels without his approval. My inner drama queen begins sobbing at the unfairness of not being able to shout from the mountain tops, but I stifle that as I come to terms with this knowledge that hits me like a solar-plexus blow.

My face must be very confusing, because Zach is suddenly looking very concerned and maybe a little defensive? "What?" he barks, and I fear he thinks I'm upset by his gesture. I close my eyes for a second, compose my face, open my eyes and smile.

"That's, uh, that's good to know," I exhale, pulling him closer and putting my hands in his back pockets, "I'm on Team Zach myself." I kiss him, forgetting my stance on excessive PDA and losing myself in the pure joy of making out with the man I love. After a few minutes he pulls back, his eyes glazed over and with him so close I can feel he's just as affected as I am when he leans even tighter into me.

"Gratuitous, dude."

"You're right babe. Let's go home." I finish my beer and he empties his and as we head to the door, I wrap my arm around his waist and put my hand back in his back pocket. He gives me a look that lets me know he thinks I'm weird, but does the same. We exit the bar like this and I can't believe the day, which started so early in the morning, has been so perfect.

I get in the driver's seat and Zach yawns as he puts his seat belt on. The drive home is quiet and I can really evaluate my new-found feelings. I come to the conclusion that I will do everything in my power to make this relationship work. Distance seems like nothing, I embrace his family obligations, and anything else along the way we will make work, somehow. He's practically asleep when I pull up to my house. I gently shake his shoulder to let him know we're home and we go inside.

I ask if he's hungry and he shakes his head no. Poor guy's been up since at least 4:30, worked for six hours, watched Codes, came here for mind-blowing sex, a shower, and a quick nap, skateboarded for at least 45 minutes, and spent the last hour and a half or so making me hot and bothered after our second uncomfortable conversation of the day. He need some sleep, so I encourage him to go upstairs and get some.

He trudges upstairs and I tell him I'll join him after I bang some work out. I sit down at my laptop with a bowl of cereal, and before delving into the stuff I need to get done, I go over the events from when I arrived back here to tonight in my head with new eyes. I _love_ him. With that confession to myself also comes the overwhelming desire to make his life easier and better. The two ways I can do that is to be as much of a help with Cody as possible and to get him into art school. I ponder on how to do that but come up with nothing, but I've got time to figure that out. The book calls to me, in the midst of all these revelations, and I begin typing like a man possessed. In what feels like minutes, several thousand words pour from my fingers, and I keep going until I'm cross-eyed looking at the screen. I hit 'save' and look at the time. It's been about two hours and I'm ready for bed. I shut the laptop and put my bowl in the sink, physically fine but emotionally drained from spilling private feelings and thoughts digitally and then filtering them through the eyes of my main character.

I ramble upstairs to join Zach, pulling off my clothes before I ease onto the bed next to him, careful not to disturb him. He turns toward me in sleep and snuggles up against my back as I begin to lie down. I turn over slowly so we can spoon. Within a few minutes I feel his breathing deepen against my neck and his wandering fingers begin their drawing. I grab one of his hands that has roamed to my hip and pull it around to me, kissing his palm. He snuggles closer and my backside can feel the beginnings of his arousal.

"Mmm, want you," he sleepily murmurs into my ear after kissing the back of my neck. _Oh babe, I want you too._ I look back to see how alert he is. Still pretty beat, but definitely interested, so I grab the necessary items and hand them to him. I shove a pillow under my armpit to hold on to, and spread my legs, raising my knee farthest from the bed up and against the pillow to give him access. He gets it and goes to work putting the condom on and pouring lube where it needs to go. With minimal movements, he drives inside of me slowly and begins to rock. I take on a good amount of his weight as he spoon-straddles me, matching him lazy thrust for thrust.

For me, this is all about him so I don't even try to get off myself, rather I relish the feeling of the man I love inside of me. His breath on my neck gives me goose bumps and I clench my ass tighter. His rocking begins to get more frantic and he begins to groan. I push my face into a pillow as he prepares to come. As he spills himself into the condom, I confess my love for him into the pillow. He growls my name and bites my shoulder as he collapses on top of me.

We stay like that for a while, but eventually he pulls out and discards the condom, and he returns to me, placing his body exactly where it had been before he got up.

"S'okay?" he asks. I settle into a more comfortable position in order to keep him there.

"Yeah," I whisper, feeling his heart thrilling against my shoulder blade. He wraps his arm around my shoulder.

"Sleep well, Shaun," he yawns into my ear. I smile.

"Sleep well, Zach."


	21. Chapter 21

I wake up early and Zach is still passed out. Sometime in the night, he'd flipped from being on his stomach on top of me to on his back pressed up against my side. Slowly I extricate myself away from him, easing away and edging off the bed so as not to disturb him. This time it must work, because he doesn't move or shift at all. I throw on a pair of teal and green paisley pajama bottoms and tiptoe out the door and down the stairs. _I'm gonna finally make him French toast!_

As I pull out ingredients and dishes and utensils to make breakfast, inspiration strikes and I grab a knife. I've felt more creative, inspired, motivated, and enthusiastic in this past week than I have in the past three years. At first I thought it was a sort of post-partum writer's block that happened after my last book came out. But knowing the recent enhancement that encouraged the sudden burst of improvements on both personal and professional levels in my life over the past two weeks allows me to view the timeline differently. I got together with Rich shortly after my book came out. It was the third I'd written, but the first one to receive critical acclaim. The previous books won some attention after this third one became successful, but never did reach its level of fame. I'd written them all in succession over a span of four years, then hit a creative wall for three years. Was my relationship with Rich a contributing factor in why my muse took off?

Not that I can blame Rich entirely. I became complacent and it was easier to turn out scripts whose plots had been assigned than explore my personal psyche for creative fodder for my books. Add into this mix that accountant-Rich abhorred anything in the arts and certainly had no patience or understanding for anything or anyone creative, and it's no wonder I had such a long dry spell. It was simply easier to go with the flow. Suddenly I'm angry for the wasted time, energy, and emotions I'd spent on him. Instead of calling him out for being a cheater, I took the easy way out and took off. And while I'm beyond grateful that it's happened now, my inner drama queen is _pissed_ I allowed it to happen in the first place. I should've dumped his ass two years ago, and I shouldn't have peaced out when it did end without a fight. _I want my stuff back!_ I tighten my grip on the knife. Fighter Shaun makes a vow to call the bastard and tell him I'll be picking up my stuff when I have free time, while peaceful-in-love Shaun cuts and prepares breakfast for Zach, and I'm loving that they're working in simultaneous harmony.

Zach bounds down the stairs in an old pair of my boxers. _Yum_. He arrives with energy, a smile, and in perfect time, because I'm just pulling his breakfast out of the pan.

"Sit," I instruct, pointing to the table with my spatula. He looks a little leery when he sees me wielding cooking utensils, but plops in the chair I directed him to. I had set a carton of orange juice and glasses there already along with other breakfast condiments, so he pours himself a glass. In an effort to impress him with my _perfect_ plate presentation, it takes me a few more seconds before his breakfast is served: heart-shaped French toast.

The adorable grin on his face makes having almost cutting my finger off trying to shape bread into hearts worth it. I'm clearly not the artist here, but he gets the sentiment. He grabs my thigh and kisses my hip. Then I smell the scrambled eggs, still on the stove, starting to burn. Shit! I jump to the stove but it's too late; they're ruined. Zach laughs as I scrape brown egg goop into the trash. This is what I get for trying too much at once. Oh well, at least the main feature of the morning turned out fine. I load my plate with more French toast and head to the table.

I sit down next to him and pour syrup on my toast. He's paused his eating and is watching me. I look up to see him sensually lick his lips, cut into a piece of his toast-heart, slowly bring it to his lips, and imitate my pathetic attempt at being sexy yesterday.

"Asshole!" I playfully shove his shoulder as he laughs.

"Hey,_ I_ thought it was hot," he defends, "but, uh, apparently not everyone's on Team Shaun, you know?"

"Thank God," I reply with a smile, "I don't need a fan club or anything," I joke.

"So does that mean I should request a refund on my membership fees?" he quips.

"Depends," I kid back, "Did you get the membership that comes with the autographed books? Those are pretty rare and that one's worth it."

"Oh, I dunno, I just got the lifetime one." _Oh my God._ My stomach drops and I inhale, imagining a _lifetime_ of heart-shaped breakfasts and bantering and surfing and "Sleep well" with this man. The sharp intake of breath I took when he said it caused me to shudder and choke, and Zach finally _gets_ what he said and really starts to blush.

I want it. I want it all: a life with Zach, the kid, the yard, the picket fence, the "happily ever after" that I've written about without ever really thinking about or figuring out what it would take to make it happen in any previous relationship.

My eyes start tearing up from coughing and he's suddenly patting me on the back trying to get it to stop. How can I tell him you can't dislodge white-picket fences and all that entails when it's not like they're really there? I finally calm down enough to breathe. Zach looks totally embarrassed and awkward, and while I know he was probably merely being complimentary and not professing undying love and devotion, I feel bad for making him feel bad. "Uh, eggshell," I lamely excuse my choking fit, pointing to my breakfast as I take a sip of juice to calm my throat before continuing. "Uh, what were we talking about?" He looks terrified and I assume he fears I'm about to launch into awkward conversation number three. Poor guy—I am a mess. All I wanted to do was make a cute breakfast for him! "Oh! Yeah, that one's a good membership—you get autographed copies of any upcoming books and the backdated ones so when I become famous, they'll be worth a crap-load of money. Great investment," I assure him, desperately racking my brain to come up with a topic to change subjects to. "Hey, what's on the agenda for today?"

"Oh, I dunno, I picked tagging yesterday. You choose today."

Since I don't think he's quite ready to pick out china patterns with me, I go for the obvious. "How 'bout surfing?"

"Let's go," he agrees. We finish breakfast and Zach insists on doing the dishes, so I take the time he's cleaning to answer a few emails. He makes a big deal about scraping out the frying pan that had the burned eggs in. I stick my tongue out at him as he laughs. We go back upstairs and I lend him a brown striped polo to wear today.

We grab our boards and gear and head to my special surf spot. The waves are awesome, and we surf for several hours before agreeing to call it quits. Heading back to the car, I'm reminded of the last time we took this walk.

"How's the CalArts application coming along?" I ask.

"Uh, pretty good. I've got it nearly all filled out and have some samples and stuff together for my portfolio so if I decide to send it, it'll take, like, ten more minutes' worth of time to finish," he explains. _Yes! _Wait,_ if?_

"What do you mean 'if'?" I pause mid-step and turn to look at him, nearly knocking him over with my board. He jumps back to avoid the collision.

"I dunno if I'll be able dedicate that kind of time to school, dude, and the money. Even with a scholarship paying for classes, I have bills to pay that a part-time job wouldn't cover. I gotta think about it," he confesses, looking away.

"Master is pleased Student may actually _be_ a student again," I reply. I wish there was a way to wave a magic wand enabling him to go to my alma mater with no issues. I feel like there's got to be a way, but have been so distracted that I haven't had any real time to brainstorm.

"Yeah, well, we'll see," he brushes off the Master/Student banter without playing along. We reach the car and load our boards in the back.

"Shack?" I ask, hoping maybe grabbing a drink will pull him from the funk that the topic of schooling has put him in.

"Yeah, sure," he agrees, looking distracted.

I grasp his biceps and rub them up and down. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah," he replies. "The deadline is at the end of the month so I just need to figure it out by then."

"That's cool. Hey, lemme know if I can help in any way, okay?" I implore, before kissing the spot between his eyes. "I mean it, babe." Zach nods his head.

For once, The Shack is totally dead. We decide to sit at the bar and order a couple beers.

"So, uh, how's the book coming along?" Zach asks, and I remember telling him about it on that same walk back to the car a week and a half ago. I blush and consider telling him it's based on him, but fearing he'll freak out, I just generalize.

"Oh, it's going well! I have a subject and it's basically writing itself," I reply.

"That's awesome!" he enthuses. "Another signed copy to add to my collection," he quips, and I'm relieved he's back to fun-loving Zach.

"Now all I have to do is become super-famous real quick and you can sell them and have no bills to worry over!" I exclaim with a smile.

"Leaked porn video's probably the quickest way to fame," he leers at me. Punk! Does he realize that he'd be playing the role opposite of me in a sex film?

"Well, that's one way of telling Gabe about us!" I reply, and Zach almost spits his beer out he's laughing so hard.

"Oh my God can you imagine the look on his face?" he asks, giggling hysterically at the thought of his blood-brother stumbling upon video proof of his best friend and brother getting it on. I can barely reply because I'm laughing as well, and grateful that the topic of telling Gabe arose and he didn't freeze up. That must mean he sees it happening sometime in the future.

"I bet that would teach him to stop snooping on my laptop," I retort. We finish our beers after we calm down and decide to head home.


	22. Chapter 22

As we pull into the Pacific Bluffs neighborhood, I realize that these awesome couple of days of one-on-one time with Zach will be ending soon.

"Hey, when do you have to go back to real-life, with work and Cody and stuff?"

"Well, I uh, have a shift tomorrow morning, so I need to get home before then to get my stuff. And I'm free in the afternoon, but have Cody overnight 'cause Jeanne's boyfriend's band is performing in Temecula and they're getting a hotel, you know? I have the whole day off after that, since I'm like, 80 percent sure Jeanne's gonna extend the trip 'cause she took it off work, so I'll have Codes for the day," he shakes his head. Seriously, what would that boy's life be like if Zach wasn't around? "After that, I gotta check my schedule so I'll know more after tomorrow morning."

"Okay," I reply, considering his schedule and determining my own availability to spend time with him and Cody. "Wanna meet up tomorrow after your shift? And I can be free the day after if you and the Ankle-Biter wanna do anything," I offer, wondering if I sound needy and desperate to be with him. "What about the rest of today? Do you have to go home tonight or will you stay?" Good God, if I don't stop he'll be anxious to get away.

"I can stay tonight," he quietly says with a smile as we pull into the driveway. "And as for uh, the rest of the day, if you've got nothing planned, I was thinking we could…" he face begins turning a most delicious shade of pink, "…uh, spend it in bed, or uh, whatever, you know?" _Hot damn._

"I think that can be arranged," I reply with a grin. We enter the beach house. Zach runs upstairs but before heading to the bedroom, I grab a nearly full bottle of red wine and a couple glasses from the kitchen. I approach my bedroom and can hear the shower running in the bathroom. He's already under the stream, washing ocean water out of his hair. I set the bottle and glasses on the counter and rip my clothes off to join him.

"Oh, hey," he greets me as I open the door and enter the steamy spray. He finishes washing shampoo out of his hair and grabs me for a kiss. I grab his back and dig my fingers into his muscles. The kiss ends and he trails more kisses down my jugular, over my Adam's apple, and onto my chest. I kiss the crown of his head and my hands wander down his back. As my fingers descend lower near his crack, I can feel his butt muscles tense. I pull back and look at him to gauge his comfort level. His face is pink.

"I uh, I dunno if I'm ready for that, you know?" he replies to the questioning look I'm giving him. "I've heard you gotta be clean but wasn't sure how to…" he fades out, blushing even redder. _Oh Zach!_

"Master appreciates that Student selected the right location for this lesson," I reply with a smile hoping to alleviate his embarrassment. "Basically, if you clean well in the shower and haven't eaten recently, you should be okay. If you're feeling the need to clean internally I have a hand bulb syringe under the sink I occasionally use with lukewarm water, but that's really it. Soap and hot water or douching and enemas are extreme and can lead to health issues if done too much," I explain, going into sex ed teacher mode. He thinks about this for a few seconds.

"So, you don't, uh do anything else for that?" he enquires looking surprised.

"Dude, we've been constantly together since yesterday and had sex twice—did you see me pull out a crazy colon cleansing kit or anything before?" I ask with a smile.

"Uh, no. But what about the bulb syringe? That sounds pretty crazy," he replies.

"Remember when Cody was a baby?" I ask. He nods his head with a very confused look on his face, probably wondering why in the world I'm bringing up his nephew when we're talking about anal cleanliness. "I imagine you had a blue suction thing for his snot?" He nods again. "That's a bulb syringe." Understanding dawns on his face.

"Oh."

"And, if for some reason, anything does end up, uh, messier that usual, well, that's another good reason to always use condoms," I clarify. "But for anything done, you know, with hands or whatnot, the cleaning you've already done in here will suffice," I finish with a helpful grin.

"Got it," he answers. I'm not sure where he stands on ass play after this discussion, so I drop it. He cradles my face in his palm without saying anything.

"Maybe I should shave," I utter, looking at his gorgeous, clean-shaven face. "I'm looking a little scruffy," I conclude.

"No, don't!" he asserts, and I'm shocked because he's usually pretty easy-going. "I _like_ it," he explains with a shy smile.

"Oh, you do?" I ask, surprised.

"Yeah, it kinda prickles when you kiss me. Sends shivers down my spine. It's sexy," he explains.

"Well, then I guess I'll keep it," I finish, glad to hear that he's finding individual and masculine features of mine attractive. "What else do you like?" I attempt to wheedle more of his favorite elements of being with me out of him.

"Why, Mr. Andrews, are you fishing for compliments?" he asks, a huge grin on his face.

"You bet. Now spill 'em!" I exclaim, and begin to nuzzle his neck with my _sexy_ scruff as I kiss him. He's having a hard time concentrating.

"Um, I like your smile, and the way your eyes crinkle up at the corners when you do," he divulges. I stop what I'm doing to his neck and look at him.

"Is that another 'old' joke?"

"No dude, I'm being serious!" he exclaims, offended and rolling his eyes. I resume my attentions on his neck, this time with a grin and my crinkly eyes. _I love this man!_ "Uh, I like the way you look in board shorts and your bubble-butt." _I have a bubble-butt?_ I never thought that, but if he's into it, I'll take it. Zach ponders some more as my scruffy kisses wander down his chest. "I like how you treat Cody—like he's a person whose opinion you care about. That's damn hot," he explains. I've moved down lower and sit on the bench to continue kissing his hipbone; he runs his fingers through my hair and brushes back and forth while I continue.

"I like how you're into my art and want me to continue my education with it. No one else cares about that, but you just _get_ it." My heart breaks and I wish his mom was still around to advocate for and cheer on his artistic expression. "I like how you can't cook, 'cause it means you're _not_ perfect—and I like to be able to cook for you. But I like that you still try to make stuff, and the French toast was _pretty_ good," he admits as I crouch lower and my attentions meander around the back of his knee. "And, uh, with the exception of the cooking, you are _pretty_ perfect—I mean, I like how I can be totally goofy and weird with you and you're cool with it, and whenever I don't know something you, like, just explain it to me and don't make me feel stupid, especially with all this sex stuff, you know? Oh! And I like how there's no pressure from you on like, coming out to our families and jumping in front of a gay pride parade before I figure out how and where I belong. And how you get a funny little grin when I wear your clothes, like you like seeing me in them, and how you're okay with me, uh, marking you," I can hear the grin in his voice while he lists off this as I'm return back to his waist.

This list is making me incredibly hot. I never realized how much attention he was paying to me or was cataloguing his favorite things; he's got _quite_ a list! I kiss down his happy trail and take him in my mouth. "Oh, uh…" he's completely lost concentration at this point, "…I, uh, like how I don't have to try to excuse or explain my family situation to you, since you've known me forever and you just get it. And, um, oh God," he moans as I suck harder. I've got my hands gripping his hips, and he moves his hands from my hair to my wrists, directing them to his backside, granting permission to play there as he continues his inventory of likes. "I uh, think it's hot that you like me inside of you and I like being inside you," he groans out as I squeeze his firm ass cheeks. "And, mmm, that you trusted me with your surf spot," he chokes out.

My index finger has slowly approached his hole, but instead of doing anything more, I stroke it back and forth between his cheeks, getting him accustomed to being touched there. I can tell he'll climax soon, as he's rocking back and forth while I swirl my tongue around his member. "I like your confidence…" he continues, almost shouting. I go faster. "…how you are, uh, just who you are with no worries about, oh God, uh, what people think. I wish that I, uh, that I was more like that. I'm almost there," he warns me and I just keep on blowing him, determined to finish what I started. "And I like that you kissed me that first night, uh, 'cause if you hadn't I, mmm, would've been too scared to." He climaxes in my mouth, and as the come drips down my chin and he's leaned over recovering, he rounds out the list: "And I like your chest and shoulders." I laugh at the last one and pull him into my lap to recover.

We sit quietly like that for a few moments. He begins lazily drawing on the chest he likes so much as I digest what he's said. I feel relief that he's satisfied with the direction I've pointed our relationship in. I had been hesitant to be so laissez faire about defining roles or being public about it hoping he just needed time to adjust and he clearly appreciates it.

"You ready to get out?" I softly ask. He nods his head. He stands up and turns off the water as I get up and grab the towels. "So, you like my bubble-butt, huh? And my chest and shoulders and scruff?"

"Yup," he admits proudly with a big grin. "They're so, _markable_!" I'm suddenly very glad I'd set down hickey ground rules yesterday. We dry off and crawl into bed. We both lie on our sides, facing each other and it's my turn to share my favorite things about Zach. Where to start?

"Well, _I_ like the mole on your right cheek," I describe as I caress that side of his face and set my hand on his shoulder, rubbing the back of his ear. "I like your devotion to Codes and that you credit me in some small way for your amazing relationship with him. And I like how you like leaving your mark, whether you're tagging your stencils across town or uh, _discreet_ bite marks across me," I rush the last bit out, afraid he'll think I'm declaring open season on hickies, but I want him to see that I pay just as much attention to him. I pull my hand away as I think of more things to like. "I actually like all of the creative things you do, and how it's just an ingrained part of you, like, even when you're half-asleep, your fingers stay busy drawing and writing all over me. And I like how you've adapted over the past few days and trust me and go along with the sex stuff that's been new to you. I like the sensitivity you have around your hips and belly button, and though I've never noticed this on a guy before, the backs of your legs and thighs are so hot," I admit. He seems surprised at this confession, and looks down at his legs. "I dunno if it's from the surfing and skating but they're like, _perfectly_ defined and developed. I like that you're such a good friend to Gabe—he needs more people like you in his life," I add, touching his cheek with the back of my hand before returning my hand to my mouth to ponder the other things I _actually_ love about this man.

I do like you in my clothes—maybe it's _my_ way of _marking_ you? I dunno, but I like how you picked up on that. I like how you're usually quiet and pretty reserved, but here," I gesture to us together in bed, "you're very talkative and honest and fun. I like the creativity that's returned to my life with your arrival; I am churning out way more copy even with spending all this time with you than I had before with more time to work. I like how you challenge me and how we both have to be paying attention to keep up with the other one. When you were a kid you were so serious, so it's good to see your silly side and I like when he comes out to play," I smile at him with this item.

"I like how when you're nervous you drink fast and that you like to tease me about my cooking. I like having you inside me and that you like being there too," I quietly admit, thinking of even more things to add to this list. "I think it's _so hot_ you read my books and liked them. I like the way you wear your jeans baggy, 'cause that makes getting in them that much easier!" He chuckles at this one and I grin.

"And you've got a great ass that I really like, and uh, I like that even though you freaked out after I kissed you and wanted nothing to do with me, that you got through that and came to me that night with no words, just action. I think that how we had Cody for a few days after that, gave us a chance to kind of, get reacquainted with each other in a way that wouldn't have happened if it was just sex-sex-sex from the start, so I'm grateful for that. And I like that I've known you and watched you grow up into this amazing man in front of me; I've never had the opportunity to know a guy I've been with as a kid and then an adult and it's been so cool. I like the color you turn when you're blushing and the smell of your neck and your heart-shape pancakes. And I like making you smile," I finish, satisfied with my list of likes finally.

He takes this all in. What is he thinking? Did I confess too much? _Shit. _His face breaks into a smile I like so much after a minute or two of contemplation and I'm relieved. He scoots in closer and cuddles up closer, putting his head on my shoulder, and begins his doodling without any words. It's quiet and perfect and we eventually drift off to sleep that way.


	23. Chapter 23

I wake up a short while later and just relish holding him in the late afternoon. I never want to leave this cocoon we've created amid the comforter and pillows and sheets. _He thinks I'm pretty perfect._ While I can't agree with that sentiment, knowing full-well what kind of head-case this guy's made me, I definitely appreciate he feels that way and vow to protect his pretty perfect opinion of me, which should be easy if I just keep doing what I'm doing. The future's got me scared, as I contemplate the idea of traveling 45 minutes one-way to be with him. And where would we stay? I've never felt comfortable bringing boys home to Mom and Larry and the idea of getting busy with Zach while they're here holds absolutely no appeal. His living situation's not conducive to sleep-overs either with Cody right there sleeping five feet away.

Should I move to San Pedro? I mean, it's not like I've got much to move, and I can realistically write anywhere. I consider picking up my life in LA and returning here, but that doesn't help Zach go to CalArts or any art school really. And if he wants to do anything with his art, he would have to launch in LA. I want to help broaden his horizons not be another thing to tie him to the town he grew up in. And as for growing up, I know in my soul and respect with everything in my heart that he won't abandon Cody. I guess, time-wise I have four months to figure it out before Mom and Larry return and we have to give up being together here.

Zach begins to stir. He's got a mischievous look on his face and I anticipate what fun he's got planned. His afternoon-in-bed idea for today was genius. He starts out kissing my chest and shoulders, the ones he _likes_ so much, and spends extra time above my armpit where his sleeping head had just rested at the juncture where chest and shoulder meet. He swirls his tongue and sucks as he moves above me, kissing my clavicle and licking the hollow space above it. He heads south down my pecs, spending long moments at my left hip before traveling across my stomach to my happy trail. It's getting very hot as he kisses and bites just below my navel, then heads to my right hip. I feel completely decadent having this man shower my body with affection and imagine the only thing I need is a glass of wine to complete the picture, which reminds me of the bottle of red I'd abandoned in the bathroom for shower time with Zach.

At this point, Zach's made his way back up and is sucking on my earlobe. He looks at me and moves to my mouth. I take his tongue in my mouth and suck hard as he wraps his hand around my face. He pulls back and I smile and point to the bathroom.

"I uh, left the wine in there," I explain with a smile. He adjusts so I can get out from under him. I pad to the bathroom to grab the bottle and glasses. As I do, I look in the mirror and see tiny little love bites above my armpit, on my shoulder, on both hips and below my belly button. _Oh my God._ I now know how the streets of Long Beach feel being tagged up by some punk kid on a skateboard. To be fair, all of them are easily coverable with a shirt and aren't the kind that will last for more than a day or two, but I'm still in shock seeing so many marks after a few minutes. I take this to mean he really, really liked our sharing earlier and smile. I can hear him in bed heaving as he tries to calm down from quietly laughing. He knows I've seen his "artwork," now, how to respond?

"Dude, you are wearing my clothes for _a week_ at least after this," I come out of the bathroom insisting. I return to the bed and pour a glass of wine for myself as he giggles uncontrollably. _How_ do I love this maniac? I finish my glass and set it down next to the bottle on the nightstand as inspiration hits me. I kiss him on the nose. "You are an animal, sir," I smile so he knows I'm not really upset. "And for that, you'll pay!" I threaten, then guide him onto his stomach. I take his hands and direct them to the bed's headboard. "These are to remain here until I tell you otherwise, got it?" He nods his head and his eyes are glassed over as he licks his lips in anticipation. He is so hot right now.

I use my fingers to drum light patterns across the expanse of his back. I work them back and forth over his shoulder blades and down the small of his back. Fancifully, I write 'I love you' as a series of touches over the tattoo across his lower back. Lower still I go, between his cheeks. He tenses for a second, then relaxes. I lick my fingers and stroke them back and forth along his crack. Goose bumps form along the curves of his ass. I dribble some spit just above the crack where his cheeks meet and he jumps a little at the sensation, but keeps his hands pressed against the headboard.

I spread his legs apart and settle myself in the V between them on my knees. With his ass bared, he's totally vulnerable and I love that he's allowing this but don't want to overwhelm him. "Let me know if you want me to stop at any time," I assure him. He nods but doesn't say anything. I continue exploring the ravine with my fingers, using the spit to lubricate their travel. My index approaches his puckered hole, and I swirl over it gently several times. He inhales as I apply the lightest pressure at his opening. "Okay?" I ask to be sure, and he nods, so I continue. "All you gotta do is relax Babe," I encourage. He does so I douse my finger in spit and slowly, slowly enter him. Giving him a moment to adjust to the feeling of my finger invading, I notice his breathing is deeper than normal, but he's not trying to push me out. I wait several seconds and push farther inside until I can't see my second knuckle. He's taking it like a champ so I pull out slightly then push further in. Wiggling my finger slightly, I'm searching for his prostate slowly swirling as I push further in. I find it and press gently. Zach gasps.

"Oh, you like that?" I ask innocently and with a naughty grin. He looks back at me surprised as hell and turned on. I'm glad he enjoys it—some guys don't, but if I really want to show him a good time, I'll need him on his knees and to use my middle finger. I pull my finger half way out and plunge it back in, pressing slightly harder on his sweet spot. He groans. "Okay, if you want me to continue, I'm gonna let you get up real quick and readjust so you're on your knees," I instruct. He does as he's told without even taking his hands from the headboard. _God this is so hot._ I grab the lube at this point because I've swallowed any additional spit in my mouth trying not to be completely turned on by this so I can focus on him rather than myself.

With his ass elevated, I pour some lube there and insert my middle finger, making finding his spot easier. He sighs as I caress it again, tightening his sphincter around my finger. I bend over and kiss the small of his back and he loosens up. I press again as I begin licking around his crack. I swirl my finger around a few more times and he's sort of humming until I hit it again, slightly harder this time. He bucks forward and I clamp my mouth down on his left cheek and start licking and sucking as I bump it once again. He's hard and I can tell he's nearly ready to come, so I cup him in my left hand and stroke as my right presses him once again, all the while running my tongue back and forth over where I'd been kissing. I stroke his cock harder but avoid pressing further from behind, hoping to extend the pleasure a bit longer. I look up at his face, and he's whimpering with sweat across his face and shoulder blades. _Almost_ _there Babe._ I thrust my finger in one more time, hard while I simultaneously pump his dick and bite down on where I'd been focusing my mouth. He shouts my name as he comes and immediately collapses.

He's almost in shock by the power of his orgasm, not completely coherent yet, and shuddering slightly. _Poor baby had no idea._ I get to work cleaning up, grabbing a towel to wipe off his thighs and my hand, then a cleansing wipe from my trusty bedside drawer to wipe down my hands, and finally pouring two glasses of wine. I settle in next to him half reclined and pull him up to lie against my side. His breathing has calmed a bit and I hand him the wine, which he gulps down. I grab my glass and exchange it for his empty. This one he slowly sips.

"What, uh, what the fuck just happened?" he whispers into my neck. I smile as I rub his shoulder opposite me.

"You just got finger-fucked," I reply, not wanting to go sex ed instructional on him right now. "And I _think_ you liked it."

"Uh, that was by far the craziest orgasm—I mean it like, came from nowhere but also from deep inside, you know?" he tries to explain.

"That's the idea, Babe," I assure him. "I'll give you the logistics later when you're not giddy with afterglow," I promise as I stroke his elbow. "Also, just so you're aware, you've got a Class A monster hickey on your left butt cheek compliments of Shaun Andrews and the city of Long Beach—consider it a fine for years of tagging." He looks confused so I laugh. I'll explain when he comes down from his orgasm cloud.


	24. Chapter 24

"**What feeling is so nice as a child's hand in yours? So small, so soft and warm, like a kitten huddling in the shelter of your clasp."**

** Marjorie Holmes, American Author**

Zach is quiet against me and I'm not sure if he fell back asleep. I finish off the wine, which leaves me feeling mellow and a little melancholy. My cell phone chirps and I grab it from the nightstand, careful not to disturb the beautiful man at my side. I flip it open to a text message from my agent, who's apparently been emailing me since yesterday about some re-writes for the script I submitted. I text him back that I'll have the edits by tomorrow night. I plan to focus on that in the morning after Zach leaves. His return to "real life" is what's got me down. Even before the past two days, with Jeanne gone, I've had pretty much unlimited access to both him and Cody. With her back, I'm sure there's going to be a lot less time I can feasibly spend with them.

What will Jeanne do if and when she finds out about Zach and me? If she's anything like I remember her, and the way Zach avoids discussing her leads me to believe she is, she will flip out. I remember when I'd first met her when I was 16 and she'd just moved into the neighborhood. She was all over me. I wanted nothing to do with her for more reasons than just my sexuality so I kept my distance.

When I came back for Gabe's graduation four years ago, I saw her out at a bar one night a few nights before the ceremony while I was meeting up with some old friends in town. She'd been drunk (with baby Cody at home, probably being cared for by Zach and a very ill Silvia) and hanging out with a rather seedy looking guy that I'm assuming didn't father Cody, because he kept calling her "Jenny." She'd stumbled over my way as I was heading back from the restroom to the table my friends had acquired, and I politely greeted her, knowing full-well as much as I would have liked to avoid her, that I'd be seeing her at the graduation.

"S-shaun?" she slurred, confused to see me. "What're you doing here? I heard you moved to LA."

"I'm back to see Gabe and Zach graduate," I replied, while my friends motioned to me to see if I needed rescuing from the obviously drunk woman hitting on their gay friend. I shook my head and mouthed back 'I know her,' so they settled back in the booth.

"Oh yeah," she mumbled. I decided to take my leave at that point, but she grabbed my arm. "Hey, I heard a _nasty_ rumor about you, S-shaun," she leered, sliding her fingers up my arm. She leaned in closer and I could smell stale cigarette smoke and booze on her breath as she whispered to me. "People are saying you're a _fag_." I swallowed, unsure how to respond. It was no secret at that point but her casual use of the 'F' word didn't exactly make me confident that she was open-minded about gay people. "I'm sure that's not true, is it S-shaun?" she asked, squeezing my arm and leaning in even closer, rubbing herself against me. I stepped back, attempting to get some room between us so I could make my exit. "Let's prove to those assholes you're not a fucking faggot!" she exclaimed and grabbed my face to kiss me.

I immediately jumped back and the guy she had been with approached, equally as drunk. "What the fuck are you doing to Jenny?" he screamed at me, clenching his fists.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing," I replied and side-stepped the drunken duo to return to my friends.

The guy eventually did end up punching someone (whether it was to "defend" Jeanne's "honor," or for some other imagined wrong, I don't know) and was escorted out. As I was getting into my car after saying goodbye to my friends, Jeanne stumbled over looking for a ride. Though I had no desire to even talk to her at this point, let alone let her in my car, I couldn't just abandon her in a bar parking lot. I told her I wouldn't be taking her home, but called a cab and waited with her for the cab to arrive. She was an emotional drunk at this point, tearing up over her fist-happy beau.

"He's never gonna love me, and you'd rather fuck guys than be with me," she wailed into my shoulder. "And now I have a kid—no one'll ever want me," she sobbed. "And I have no money and a baby to feed at home." I chose _not_ to see the link between no money and no love for her, completely disgusted for her child and her family that was caring for him. She began eyeing me up and down again, more astutely this time. "And I can't pay for the cab home, and my boyfriend's gone," she continued. I knew I was being hoodwinked at that point but I just had to get away from her. The cab came and I paid him for her ride in advance. Before she got in, she looked at me with bleary eyes. I couldn't get the image of the poor baby, who while receiving ample amounts of love from Sylvia and Zach, _would_ be a financial burden to a family with a laid-up grandfather, sick grandmother, not-even-out-of-high-school uncle, and a mother who obviously didn't make him a priority. I pulled out a hundred bucks from my wallet and pressed it into her palm.

"This is for baby stuff, _got it_?" I instructed. Her pupils sharpened, so I knew she was paying attention. "If I find out you used it for anything other than diapers, formula, or other stuff for him, I will make you pay me back all of it, plus cab fare, do you understand?" She nodded and got into the cab.

A few days later at the graduation, she avoided me during the ceremony, which was just fine with me—I had no problem pretending that night hadn't ever happened. But after commencement, as I was hugging my brother and Zach congratulations, she gave me a nasty look and pulled me aside while the boys were celebrating with school friends.

"Look Shaun, I'm grateful for the money you gave me the other night, and the cab ride. I used the cash and bought diapers and formula like you said, and I'll show you the receipts if you don't believe me. But don't think I can't tell what you're trying to do. If I catch you trying anything gay with my baby brother you will regret it if it's the last thing I do," she threatened, and though I wasn't sure she could actually _do_ anything to hurt me, it still shook me up because the thought had genuinely never crossed my mind. He'd always been my kid-brother's best friend and I'd always seen him as such. Without even looking at me, she continued her ridiculous rant. "And even though I know what you are, as long as you keep your lifestyle away from my family, I won't have to tell Zach that the guy he hero-worshiped growing up turned out to be a fag. I won't let you hurt him! _Got it_?" I rolled my eyes and walked away from her, relegating her distasteful bigotry to the back of my mind while I socialized among our families, though I was careful not to provoke her into causing a scene on her brother's big day.

That charming interaction with Jeanne is literally the last contact I've had with her.

From a purely objective standpoint, I understand she was trying to "protect" Zach from my evil gay influence, and that her threat came from a misguided sense of love for him, which makes it difficult to cast her as a purely one-dimensional "bad guy." And though Zach is an adult who makes his own decisions, he still takes her and Cody into consideration when he determines those choices, ever guarding the red strings in his life. Where does my thread fit in among those of his family? Should I push to see him and Cody as much as I have been and actively pursue building some sort of tentative relationship with Jeanne to ensure I see them more than just whenever she's not around? Or trust Zach to bring me into his life when he thinks Jeanne's ready? I don't mind going by "friend" in front of her for Zach's sanity, which is normally not my style at all.

Maybe I'll be able to grapple with this better when Zach isn't cuddled up in my arms, because right now all I can see is an impossible situation. The fact that in just under two weeks of having him back in my life, I am even considering major life changes to accommodate him, and not just him but Cody as well, is insane to rational Shaun. My recently admitted love for Zach has also allowed me to view his nephew in a new love-light as well, and caring greatly for this child ended up being no stretch at all. To know Cody is to love him. His joie de vivre is enough to charm anyone, and for me, seeing that light-hearted child-like demeanor coming from a boy that looks like mini-Zach just solidifies my love for him and their relationship even more. Where uncle had a less-than-easy time growing up, he's ensuring his nephew isn't touched by the difficulties he dealt with.

I remember at one point, Sylvia told me, probably when Zach was 11 or 12, that until I took him to the ocean and gave him surf lessons, she had feared he'd never have a physical outlet to channel his feelings into. He obviously had his art, which allowed for a creative manifestation of his thoughts and emotions, but his mother was convinced that the introduction of riding the waves was the reason he'd stopped using his fists. She often told me how grateful she was that Gabe and I entered his life, and while I was flattered, I was also a teenager so it didn't register to me that she, as a mother, had a genuine concern for her sensitive son's future well-being. And now, when I think of Cody's future without Zach, I can empathize with her fears. Cody needs Zach, and Zach needs Cody, and I need them both—a Zach without Cody wouldn't be the man I love, and Cody as his own entity is just as loveable as Zach. What a mess.

"This is what happens when you _shoplift the pootie_," I sigh to myself, not that I would have it any other way.

A finally alert Zach stirs in my arms. "Uh, dude, are you quoting _Jerry Maguire_?"

"Uh, how do you know about that movie?" I ask, startled.

"Um, it's uh, one of Tori's favorites," he admits and I smile. _Girl's got good taste in more than just men_. "What are you thinking?" he perceptively asks and I wonder how long he'd been observing me.

"Oh, a lot of things. You when you were a boy, Cody, your mom, Jeanne, your graduation, how I used to take you surfing…" I fade out, not being specific about how they were linked in my mind.

"I used to love when you took us to the beach," he sleepily replies. "I would wait all day for school to end and rush home to do my homework so you would take us. When my mom wasn't paying attention, I'd help Gabe with his school work so we'd be ready for you," he admits, as he begins doodling on my stomach. "I was so jealous that he had this awesome big brother and I had Jeanne. I mean, I love her, but she wasn't exactly the coolest sibling for a boy to have," he explains.

"Well, it looks like it worked out well for you in the end, babe. You got an awesome nephew and I got to take Gabe to the clinic for a few rounds of STD panels after we all grew up," he begins to chuckle. "And you have me now," I offer, kissing his ear.

"And I have you now," he agrees with a gentle smile. I have to get out of this wine-induced funk I'm in before I break down crying and beg him to love me forever, so I change the subject.

"Hey, do you ever take Codes surfing?"

"Uh, no, no. Not yet. Dunno if he's too young and I don't have the funds to get him properly-sized equipment," he explains. "I still have the stuff from when I was eight so I figured once it fits him, I'll start."

"Makes sense," I half-heartedly reply while a plan takes form in my mind. "What time is your shift tomorrow?" I enquire, trying to work out when I'll focus on my writing and when I'll focus on other things.

"Eight to two," he answers. "Then I gotta be home by six to take Codes. I uh, was thinking about hitting the waves tomorrow since I prolly won't be able to with the kid during my time off the next day," he makes clear. "You wanna meet me at Cabrillo Beach at 2:30?"

"Sure," I reply. "And if you have no plans with the Half-Pint, if you wanna bring him here, we can go swimming in the pool the next day," I offer.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

By now, evening has set and I'm starving, but I absolutely refuse to spend more than five minutes out of this bed with him before he leaves in the morning. "Hey, our day-in-bed, do you think if I order a pizza, we could have a picnic in here?" I pose, afraid that he'll laugh because I'm being ridiculously cheesy.

"No, that's perfect, but you have to wear clothes when you answer the door," he deadpans. I burst out laughing grateful he gets me as much as he says I get him.


	25. Chapter 25

I order a pepperoni pizza, his favorite from childhood-some things never change, and throw on my pajama bottoms. When the doorbell rings, I purposefully look at him, then down at my many bruises, and pointedly grab a shirt to put on. He laughs and sticks his tongue out at me. I pay for the pizza, grab some plates and napkins and a few beers (now that my funk has disappeared) from the kitchen, and make it back up into my room within four minutes. Zach had put on the boxers he was wearing earlier my gray sleep tank in that time, and I'm glad he's taking my wearing-my-clothes mandate seriously, but surprised to see him dressed. He shrugs his shoulders. "I'm not getting burned by hot drippy cheese," he explains.

I grab a towel out of the bathroom as a tablecloth and set the box on top and we settle down our picnic in bed. I crack open a beer and hand it to him as he hands me a plate with a slice of pizza. For the first time since he's been here, I grab the remote control and turn the TV on. It turns on to the last channel it had been on, showing a woman making an elaborate looking meal involving beef tips and asparagus. Zach bursts out laughing, obviously recognizing the channel.

"You watch the _cooking_ network?" he asks, completely incredulous. I sigh and smile.

"Well, now you know my deep, dark secret shame and humiliation," I reply, rolling my eyes. I hand him the remote. "Change away," I offer, and take a bite. He begins flipping through channels while chewing his slice.

"You, uh, you don't watch much do you?" he asks. I shake my head.

"Nah, usually I just have it on for company, background noise, colors," I explain. "That's why food shows are good. Don't have to pay attention."

"You're right about that!" he counters back wiggling his eyebrows—another jab at my lacking skills in the kitchen. Then I can tell he's come up with something by the 'a-ha' look on his face. The remote is the universal kind that does everything: TV, DVD, surround-sound, and more. He switches the DVD player on and the title screen for _Skate This! With Gabe & Zach_ pops on. "I _knew_ it! I _knew_ I heard 'What Do You Believe In?' that night on the walkie-talkie!"

"I uh, found it in the entertainment center," I explain, pointing to it. "Gabe must have put all his crap in there at some point because that's where the walkie-talkie was as well along with some porno mags and other stuff I threw out." I take another bite as he pushes 'Play,' and teenage Zach and Gabe begin their antics.

"So you were watching this that first night after the beach?" he asks, reviewing the timeline in his head.

"Yep," I admit, wondering where he's taking this line of questioning.

"Uh, what were you thinking?"

"That Larry probably spent too much getting this made, I mean the production value's so-so…" Apparently this isn't the thoughts he was looking for because he cuts in.

"I mean about me, like, dude, we'd just spent the day together and then you're watching this and we're talking on the radios, but what were you thinking?"

I finish my slice of pizza before answering, throwing the crust in the box and grabbing a second slice as I deliberate on what to say. "Who's fishing for compliments now?" I reply with a smile.

"No, it's not that, I'm just curious. We hadn't seen each other in four years, and you yourself said you were _just_ thinking of my graduation, you know? How did _you_ get from congratulations-here's-a-way-too-generous-gift-card-to-the-art-supply-store- happy-graduation-Zach to, um, like now?"

I get what he wants: my first impressions of him since returning. I give in and answer the damn question. "That first day, when I caught you in the yard and you turned around, I thought you'd grown up to be _hot_," I begin, starting to feel a faint flush creep up my neck. "But that was it. I think a lot of guys are hot," his eyes darken a bit at this statement. _Is he jealous?_ I continue. "Then we spent the day surfing and I was just so impressed with the man you'd become. It was nice to see all the things about you that made you such a great kid, your loyalty and thoughtfulness, your brains and artistic talent, had matured along with you creating an awesome young man." I know he wants the good stuff, but stringing him along with words you'd find in a greeting card from your grandparents is just too fun, so I continue. "The way you took on the responsibilities that life gave you really…"

"Never mind," he grumps, rolling his eyes. I smile, knowing if he can hold on for ten more seconds I'll give him the info he wants. He takes a bite as I grab the remote.

"Right here," I pause as Gabe's about to "lick" his injured knee on the screen. "Right here at this very moment, is the first time I officially and actually considered you _in_ _that way_," I admit, the flush reaching my cheeks. "I mean, I had casually undressed you in my mind once or twice before this, but _here_," I point to the screen, "is where I realized I was in trouble."

"Uh…" is all he can sputter out at first, the confusion on his face is clear. "…what does that even mean?"

"I uh, I recognized I was experiencing an irrational feeling of jealousy watching my brother pretend to lick you, even though I knew it didn't mean anything and wasn't real. And about 30 seconds after that shocking revelation hit me, I had you chatting me up via walkie-talkie. There was no way to get away from those feelings after that, what with you showing up early the next morning all flirty and adorable and wanting to go surfing again," I finish.

He nods slowly, and actually looks like he understands, which is weird; I'd thought he'd be grossed out. "Wow," is all he says with a slight grin before taking a swig of beer.

"What?" I ask, still a little defensive from my admission. "I don't want to ever _actually lick_ your road rash, it's just that on a primal level I didn't want Gabe to either," I attempt to pull him away from that stupid image that still sends twinges through my stomach. I mute the TV and push 'Play' to get it off the screen, and the best buds are back to skating.

"No, that's not it, it's just that, um, that chat on the radios, was, uh, pretty powerful," he explains. "Had we not talked, I wouldn't have thought to come by the next day to catch you playing dress up," he says with a grin. _Punk!_ I shake my head.

When we get to the wrestling scene, it reminds me of the scene re-writes I need to work on. My knowledge of any sort of combat is virtually nonexistent. "Hey," I interject in the silence, "can you maybe show me some of those moves tomorrow?"

"Dude if you're gonna try to battle Gabe over me, just give up now," he grins. "He's got way more wrestling skills than this Student could teach you, Butterfly."

"You're saying I should be jealous of him wrestling with you too?" I jokingly complain.

"Well, if you're uh, not jealous that we learned how to French kiss with each other, then you should be fine." _WHAT?!_ Any bit of color that had been creeping up my face drains in an instant down into the lowest part of my stomach and I can hear my heart beating in my ears as I try to remember how to breathe.

I don't know how long I sat there like that, but I know I ran _Oh my God_ through my head about 17 times before I snapped out it. I "come to" with the pizza box on the floor and Zach sitting on his knees in front of me, his hands holding onto the sides of my face. "…I was just kidding Sweetheart, I was just kidding. It was a joke. Shaun, I was joking, can you hear me?" _Did he just call me "Sweetheart"? _

"Yeah I'm here," I weakly say. He kisses me hard on the mouth, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth and running his tongue along the edge of my teeth. I open my mouth and it moves in there, overwhelming my own tongue with a desperation his kisses have never had before. He presses my shoulders back and I find myself lying back into the pillows as he continues kissing me. His assault on my mouth finally clears the fog that had taken over my brain with the idea of Gabe and Zach kissing, and I begin kissing back. He realizes I'm finally an active participant and pulls away.

"Oh God Shaun, I'm so sorry I freaked you out," he begs for forgiveness. "It was seriously just a joke Sweetheart. I didn't mean it, you know? I'm so sorry I scared you."

"You'd better be," I reply. He drops kisses all over my face as my breathing begins to even. I've never had something like this happen, and while he continues planting smooches here and there, I evaluate what just occurred. It was like the thought of my brother and Zach made me physically shut down for several moments. Even when I walked in on Rich, nothing even close to that happened. The fact that it took place at all totally freaks me out—what does it even mean?

He pauses mid-kiss when we make eye contact. "I swear to God, I have never, _ever_, in a million years even thought of Gabe like that, okay? The thought of kissing him makes me want to hurl. He's like my brother—gross! I promise you that that never, ever happened." He sits up. Genuine regret tinges his voice. "It was supposed to be funny, not to upset you or hurt you or freak you out in any way," he says in a quiet, calm voice.

"I know Babe. I uh, I don't know what happened to me right there and I'm sorry if I freaked you out. I freaked myself out too," I explain, finally calm and alert enough to do so. "It wasn't bad as a joke or anything like that, though the thought of you and Gabe does squick me out, much like I imagine the idea of me and Jeanne would gross you out…"

Zach begins making a gagging face. "Oh, nasty dude!" he barks. I'm glad to know it's just as disturbing to him to picture that hot mess of a pairing as it is to me. I shudder at the thought, remembering her drunken attempt to kiss me.

"…but I'm not mad or upset. I'm alright, it's okay." I finish, rubbing his thigh. "And I'm not jealous of your relationship with Gabe or actually worried about that at all. I dunno if it was that primal level instinct rearing up again, or the fact I had too much wine before, or that you just do _weird_ things to me, but let's just let it go, okay?" I request, pulling him against me.

"Yeah, we can do that," he concedes and I'm glad he doesn't want to make a big deal about it. "And, uh, hey, the rest of tonight is your choice," he offers. "So if you wanna, you know, do anything specific, you're on."

"I uh, actually just wanna hold you right now," I reply with all honestly. "You've gotta get up early tomorrow and I don't want you to be exhausted like you were yesterday. Besides I'm pretty beat anyway." He shrugs his shoulders and nods, settling in against me. "So, 'Sweetheart,' huh?" I ask, loving the endearment, but wanting to return to lighthearted banter.

"Oh, God, you _heard_ that?" He begins to squirm. "I could have said 'Sleeping Beauty' or 'Snow White,' since it took a kiss to wake you up, he kids as he gently pokes my ribs, smiling.

"Sorry bro, only Gabe's allowed to call me Princess," I let him down as easily as possible, with a big grin.

"Is this something _I _need to be jealous about regarding Gabe?" he shoots back in a jokingly stern voice. And we're back to where we were before my spaz-out. Thank goodness.

"Nope, besides, I like 'Sweetheart' just fine."

"Well then, sleep well, Sweetheart."

"Sleep well, Babe."


	26. Chapter 26

Zach's breathing pattern slows and he falls asleep within minutes. Good, I knew he needed sleep. _What the fuck happened earlier?_ I run the events as I remember them in my head. Nothing about our exchange warranted a melt down on my part. Choking on a 'lifetime membership' seems like small potatoes compared to blacking out over a fucking joke. The possible reasons I'd listed off when requesting to forget about it are all possible, or maybe I'm just getting old? Could it be a medical or mental health issue I need to get checked out? Should I call Mom's shrink over this? I have never, ever full-on _New Moon_-Bella Swan'ed over a guy before and certainly not over something so stupid. The way I feel about the man asleep in my arms _scares_ me. He's got some serious power in his hands and we're not even officially anything to each other. How did I get here? I run my hands through my hair and come to the conclusion that there's really nothing I can do except to just sleep on it.

I drift out of dream land several hours later still engrossed in a delicious and unexpected vision that apparently stayed with me upon waking. Not wanting to open my eyes, I stay in the dream sequence where I'm lying on the beach, my special beach I just recently shared for the first time, while Zach is giving me the most exquisite blow job. Dream-me stretches out to run my fingers in the sand, and grasps a handful of sheets.

I peek one eye open and realize I'm not mid-dream. I must have been exhausted because Zach somehow managed untangle himself from my grasp and pull my PJs down without my waking up. I look at the clock to see it's 5:40 AM. _Damn it's early._ Zach has me in his mouth. He's slowly and quietly going down on my while gently caressing my balls. He looks reverent while doing this, which is a total turn on because I generally feel the exact same way, but, I'm also afraid that because of last night he's treating me with kid gloves which is something I want no part of. His technique has improved and I feel kind of like a voyeur, watching him perform this intimate act on me while he's unaware I'm awake. _God I want him._ The initiative he took upon himself to wake me up this way is so hot, but in this instance, I want down-and-dirty-I-need-you-right-now fucking, not soft-and-romantic-let's-take-it-slow lovemaking, especially since he's leaving our bed in just over an hour.

My cock starts to twitch and I know I either need to ride this out, or change it up. I groan, and Zach takes a second to look up from sucking me off. Without words I pull him up and kiss him; this time it's my tongue invading his mouth, filling it then sucking his into my mouth as I grab his cock through the gap in the boxers he's still wearing. He's already excited and I use my fingernails to draw around the base of his shaft, then extend them up nearly reaching the head, but just missing before returning to the base. I do this a few more times and I can see he wants me to extend my attentions further up, but I won't. His cock is trembling so I drop my hands away and begin to tear off the rest of our clothing. I stand up to kick off my bottoms as I pull the shirt off Zach and toss it across the room. I discard my shirt then grab the lube and condoms, setting them next to Zach, who's busy pulling off his boxers while looking unsure on what to expect next. _Good._ He throws the underwear on the floor and sits back down to watch what I'll do now.

I stick my index finger in his mouth getting it wet, then use it to swirl around the previously-ignored tip of his dick. He's clearly ready to go, so I flip over onto my hands and knees and present my ass to him. The fact that no words have been spoken is so hot and I hope he understands I want him to fuck me hard without having to say anything. He catches on quick and protects himself and gets up on his knees. He rubs his member between my ass cheeks for a few seconds and I push back with urgency. He flips the lid to the lube and pours some out on himself while shoving a finger inside me. _Oh God yes._ He was definitely paying attention to my actions earlier, because he swirls his finger around and then slams it in. I press back hard, needing more. He pulls his finger out and adjusts his cock to enter. Before he can ease inside, I press upon him, the slight pain upon the quicker entry is worth finally having him where I need him.

He sheathes himself within me entirely and the frenzy that brought me to this point boils over. He begins pumping and I pump back so he's slamming against me thrust after thrust. I spit in my hand and wrap it around my cock with the absolute need to get off now, and within a minute of such strong stimulation coming from both sides I come. He's still got a bit to go, so with semen tenuously clinging to my stomach, I keep the pace I'd set for him. He almost entirely pulls out as I jolt forward, and when we meet back in the middle seconds later, he growls. A few more times and he's hunched over my back as he climaxes. He scrapes his teeth against my shoulder and we both collapse, exhausted, sweaty, and spent.

We lie there for several minutes and he begins doodling on my stomach, this time using the come I had been too exhausted to wipe away as ink.

"Finger painting?" I enquire with a grin. He never ceases to surprise or amaze me. I never would have thought he'd be playful with my spunk, especially when I compare him to other men I've been with who wanted nothing to do with their own semen, let alone their lover's. But comparing Zach to anyone is stupid, because he's so unique and amazing and just, him, that of course I'd find anyone else lacking.

"It's the hot new medium," he volleys back, then gets up to dispose of his condom. As he leans over me to toss it in the trash, he lowers himself so we're belly to belly, adding a semen print of whatever nonsensical thing he drew on me to his own stomach. He kisses me quick, and before he can say it himself, I jump in.

"Thank you for that. Uh, the whole thing. Waking up that way was lovely, and the fact that you went with my, uh, change-up, was awesome, because I really, _really_ needed that."

"No prob dude. It was, uh, unexpected but totally hot." He lays back down next to me and we rest for a while before he's got to get ready to return to real life. As he stands up to grab his clothes I look around for a towel for him to wipe off. I find one and attempt to toss it his way, but he stops me. "Nope, wearing this all day," he states, gesturing to his abs. "And if I gotta wear your clothes, you gotta wear my art, deal?" I nod in agreement. _Fuck yeah._

He gets dressed in a mix of both his original clothes he'd worn here and my clothes, and comes to kiss me goodbye before he leaves. "I'll see you at 2:30, okay?"

"I'll be the one with the matching stomach tattoo," I reply, running my hand up inside his shirt to caress his sensitive navel. He shivers and gives me one more kiss. "Late," I bid my farewell as his eyes light up at my word selection, chosen to make him smile as much as I feel like I am right now.

"Late, Sweetheart." The door clicks shut and I turn over to go back to sleep, hoping to return to this bed (or even my beach) with Zach in my dream.


	27. Chapter 27

For the second time this morning, I wake up. But this departure from sleep isn't nearly as nice. The alarm I'd set on my phone is blaring; time to get to work. I pull myself out of bed and slide my feet on the floor looking for the damn pajama bottoms I'd tossed somewhere in the heat of the moment this morning. Still squinting, I can barely focus. I blink a few times hoping that helps. My room is a disaster. Clothes are everywhere, and peeking out from under them is last night's pizza box. I give up on finding my PJs and grab the boxers Zach had borrowed to put on. I already miss him. Sleeping on it hasn't really done anything as far as trying to figure out last night, but I do feel less stressed about it and Zach's opinion on my melt down after our early-morning romp. I gather up the box and kick all of the clothes into a pile for laundry later. Time to head downstairs.

Re-writes are the bane of my existence as a writer. Especially action scene re-writes. Like, why can't the professionals just block out a sequence without it being realistically written in script form? I decide to put those ones off until they're the only ones left. And before starting any of them, I make some coffee, grab a muffin for breakfast, and sit down to check my email, which is full of new messages since I checked yesterday morning while Zach did dishes. I check the urgent ones first and respond to them accordingly from my agent and my editor. Additionally I have one from Tony, an old friend from CalArts who is traveling through California and staying in Long Beach tomorrow night wondering if I'd like to meet up. I consider it, wondering if it will interfere with when Zach is free. I shake my head, now disgusted with myself. Why do I need to make sure my plans coincide with his schedule? I eschew that unhealthy relationship practice and respond to Tony saying I definitely would love to see him and to give me a call when he gets into town. I answer a few more less-pressing emails before beginning edits.

My muse is still active even after taking all this time off to enjoy adult-time with Zach because I get through most of them within two hours. Score. Now I can take a break to put my plans into action for tomorrow before meeting Zach at Cabrillo Beach. I grab a banana for lunch and load up my car with my surf gear. Pulling out of Pacific Bluffs, I eat the fruit as I head south to Harbour Surfboards in Seal Beach. I've been going to Harbour Surfboards for years so I waste little time talking to the sales staff, who assure me they can have my special order available for pick up tomorrow morning. While I'm there, I purchase a coconut-scented sex wax air freshener for my car because it reminds me of Zach and "waxing his surfboard."

I make it to the beach with ten minutes to spare and begin putting on my wetsuit in the parking lot as I wait for Zach to arrive. He pulls in nearby and I grab my board and head in his direction.

"Hey Babe," I greet him. He looks up at me from pulling his wetsuit on, then around to passersby.

"Oh, hi," he replies, then nods his head to a couple of dudes walking by in board shorts who wave at him. "Hey." I get that he's letting me know to tone down the affection because we're on his turf. As soon as he's done, we jog toward the beach and hit the surf running. The waves could be better, so we call it quits after about an hour and a half and plop down at a secluded area of the beach.

"So how was work?" I ask, curious about his day.

"Long, boring. Not nearly as much, uh, fun as the past few days," he responds, "What about yours?"

"Oh, the same. After you left, I slept for a bit more, worked on the computer, ran an errand, and came here."

"Did I wear you out this morning, old man?" he asks with smirk. I playfully push his shoulder and he tips over, laughing.

"It's on!" he shouts as he pops back up to retaliate. Lunging toward me, he grabs my shoulders and wrestles me back into the sand. I flip him over and am on top now, but then he uses his leg to flip me over and is back over me. "Consider this the wrestling lessons you requested, Butterfly!" We lose the playfulness of the moment and go into instructional mode, with Zach showing me a few basic moves for bringing down an opponent. He has me lunge toward and grab his mid-section, and while I think I'm in control about to topple him, he grabs me from above and I'm back on the ground. He shows me how he did this and I take all of his tips and file them in my mind for when I'm back at the computer. We run through a few more scenarios before we both are exhausted and agree to head out. Having seen that I was being extra-attentive during the lesson has made Zach curious. "Uh, why do you wanna know all this stuff? Are you, uh, a wanted man or something?"

"Oh, no, it's for a scene I'm re-working," I explain.

"Your new book is about hand-to-hand combat?" he asks, his eyes wide with surprise. Zach's confused face is adorable.

"No for a script," I clarify.

"Ahh, so the book's writing itself, but the script, not so much?"

"Eh, the script is done. Just working on edits from notes the studio sent."

"Do you like writing? I mean, uh, you went to school for it, but if you had the chance would you do something else?" I pause for a second before answering, wondering if this has anything to do with his own efforts to get schooling and become a professional artist.

"I do. I do love it. Writing is still my fantasy job and I'm lucky enough that it pays the bills. I mean, ultimately I'm living the dream. I like that I can work at home in my PJs or take time off to go surfing during the afternoon because I make my own schedule. I like that if I want to explore a subject, anything at all, I can in the name of 'research.' I get to meet interesting people, I've been able to do some traveling, and learn some fascinating things because I was brave enough to pursue my passion and stick with it." He thinks on this, and I hope it gets through to him that he can have the same thing if he's determined. That being said, I don't want to lead him to believe that it's all sunshine and flowers when it comes to working in a creative field.

"There have been difficult times too. When I was starting out, trying to get anyone interested in anything I wrote was tough. I started out doing articles for magazines while I worked on my first novel. Even after it got published, I had started picking up gigs writing or editing scripts to make ends meet. I found out I enjoy doing that between books or when I'm not feeling particularly creative. I can't imagine doing anything else." He nods his head in understanding. "If I had a standard 9-5 job, I know I'd still be writing in my spare time, because it's who I am. I was just smart enough and lucky enough to _take_ the opportunity when it arose and run with it, so my free time is spent doing other things I love." I mentally jump off my soapbox, convinced I've at least given him a reason to actively pursue school. He smiles.

"Like waxing my board?" he grins, ready to verbally spar again. I'd chosen the perfect time to end my speech; he's in a silly mood and we've reached the parking lot.

"I _do_ love waxing your board," I admit. "And surfing with you, and making you scream out my name in ecstasy..." I continue, remembering this morning with a satisfied smile.

"Shaun!" he exclaims, nothing at all like he does when he comes. I snap out of my reverie to see he's glaring at me, and I notice we're no longer alone.

"No one heard," I reply, looking around to be sure. I'm confident of this statement as soon as I see we're at least ten yards from the closest beach-goers. He still looks annoyed so I just roll my eyes. _Closet-case._

We stow our boards and change out of our wetsuits. I dust all the sand off from beach wrestling off while I contemplate how mad he actually is, and whether he wants to hang out tonight. I miss Cody, having not seen him since Zach got off babysitting duty last time. I consider bringing it up or waiting to see if he does. I mean, we have plans for tomorrow so it's not like I _won't_ see the Ankle-Biter soon, in fact, I'm eagerly anticipating tomorrow, but that doesn't mean I want to be alone tonight. Zach's phone rings. He looks at the caller ID and answers.

"Hey I'm heading home to pick him up now," he tells the person on the other end of the line. It must be Jeanne. "What do you mean he hasn't had dinner yet? You said you'd…" he shakes his head. "Fine. Bye." He hangs up and I take the opportunity presented to me.

"You gotta feed the Ankle-Biter?"

"Yeah, Jeanne apparently didn't have time to," he replies. "And she wants to head out ASAP, so I uh, gotta go."

"Well, if the two of you don't have plans, I'd love to take you to Kid Concepts," I offer, referring to a kids' play land about ten minutes away that is a popular destination for birthdays and single dads who only have the kids on weekends.

"Uh, are you kidding?" he skeptically asks. "Have you _been_ there?"

"Yeah, I _do_ have friends with kids," I inform him. "Being a few years older than you, _many_ of my friends and associates have kids so I'm well-versed in play land etiquette."

"I took Codes to a birthday party there once and he thought he'd died and gone to heaven."

"Is that a 'yes,' then?" I ask.

"I mean, how can I say no, you know?" he replies, shaking his head at me. "You don't have to do this, I can make him dinner just fine, and if you want, you're welcome to come…" he trails off.

"No, I want to! I've missed him and this will be fun," I assure him.

"Fine. You wanna meet there or what?" Clearly I'm not to be seen by Jeanne.

"How about I run home to get dressed appropriately and meet you at your place?" I offer, giving him time to get home and for his sister to leave.

"Cool that works."

I look around and see nobody around. "Okay then, I'm off to change. Don't forget to wear socks." I lean in for a quick peck, but he turns around to open his car door.

"Late," he casually says as he climbs in.

"Late-er," I reply, shaking my head. We've definitely left the affectionate bubble that encased us during our two-day adult-time, and now we're literally heading to kid-time.


	28. Chapter 28

I head home to change, running our exchange through my head. Did I push too hard? I had promised him time and I want to be supportive, but it's difficult to balance understanding encouraging Shaun with out and proud Shaun. I decide to not beat myself up over it as I pull into the garage. In an effort to give Zach enough time for Jeanne to leave, I finish up the combat re-writes using some of the techniques I learned at the beach. I hit 'Send' and run upstairs to change into jeans and a sweater. I grab some socks and sneakers when the walkie-talkie begins to static.

"Cody to Shaun!" Cody enthusiastically greets me, and I can't help but smile. I find the radio propped up between the bed and nightstand and grab it.

"Hey Buddy, what's up?" I ask, unsure of whether his uncle has told him where we're taking him.

"Zach said you're coming over and we're gonna go someplace cool!" he exclaims.

"You're right Ankle-Biter! I'm heading your way soon!" I reply, glad I'd thought of this excursion. I hurriedly throw on my footwear and run down the stairs, bringing the walkie-talkie along with me.

"I can't wait Shaun! I have a surprise for you!" he admits, giggling.

"You do!"

"Yup! I'll give it to you when you get here!"

"Okay, Codes, see you soon," I confirm as I get in my car. The drive to San Pedro seems to take only seconds. I arrive at their house and Cody is running outside to greet me with a big smile and a folder. He grabs my leg in a hug, almost dropping it. _This kid is too cute!_ Zach comes out and sits on the steps with a smile when he sees Cody attached to me. I amble over in his direction when Cody lets go of my leg to hold my hand. I plop down next to Zach on the stairs as the boy presents me with my surprise.

I open the folder to a piece of artwork. Cody had used glue and sand to make a sand castle on the paper. Shells and other items were attached here and there to decorate and it does look a bit like the one we made with Zach the other day. Behind the castle are three stick figures, holding hands. Cody explains, pointing to each.

"That's Uncle Zach and he's holding the stick he used to draw on the walls. And me, I'm in between you two, and you're both holding my hands 'cause I'm about to jump real high and do a flip. And that's you, and you're holding the sunscreen so we don't get burned!"

"That's right Buddy! I care too much about you and your uncle to let you get burned!" I agree, shaking my head seriously. Zach chuckles and rolls his eyes, so I turn to him. "What? You think I'm kidding? Skin care is important, so when you come over tomorrow to go swimming, I'm gonna check to be sure you've got your sun block on," I teasingly threaten.

Cody gasps. "We're going swimming tomorrow?" he asks, giddy with excitement. "Is that the cool place we're going to?"

"Nope, we're going to another cool place tonight, then tomorrow you'll come over to go swimming at my house," I explain with a smile.

"Shaun, you rock!" he affirms, and I can't help but grab him up in a hug.

"Thanks Buddy. You rock too."

I carefully put Cody's sand creation back in the folder he'd presented it in and set it in my car as Zach locks up. I meet them at Zach's car as he's loading Codes into his car seat. We hop in and head to Kid Concepts. As we pull into the parking lot, Cody gasps, recognizing where we are.

"Oh my gosh I love this place!" he informs us with glee. He can barely contain himself as I pay for our entry and as soon as we enter where the main play structure is, he throws his shoes off and runs toward it, immediately climbing up into the kids-sized gerbil tubes. I sit down at one of the tables provided nearby as Zach collects the discarded shoes and stores them, along with ours, in his backpack. He sits down next to me and we watch Cody navigate through the different areas and compartments of the play structure in companionable silence for a while.

When Cody exits the play land via a slide, Zach gets his attention before he climbs back in. "Hey Codes, what do you wanna eat for dinner?"

Cody pauses for a second, then shouts his order: "Chicken strips and a brownie. And apple juice!" then takes off back into the tubes, this time heading in a different direction where a ball pit is set up. We head in the direction of the Caf_é _to place our orders. Zach orders a chicken quesadilla and soda and Cody's meal, and grabs for his wallet to pay. I nudge his elbow to stop him.

"Hey, I invited you. It's my treat," I tell him quietly, then add my turkey sandwich and drink to the order. He puts his wallet back but doesn't say anything. We get our order number and go sit back down.

"Shaun, you don't have to pay for everything," he starts out. I like that he wants to talk about relationship dynamics, and in public no less, but does it have to be about money? "I'm not uh, totally strapped for cash all the time and I don't want you thinking of me as a charity case, you know?"

"I don't think of you like that, at all." I reply, stunned he feels this way. Seriously, what have I paid for with him besides tonight? A couple drinks at the bar and the pizza? "I invited you and Cody, this was my idea, so of course I figured I'd pay," I explain.

"I just, I don't want you to think I'm, uh, I'm with you, you know, _for that_," he confesses, turning pink. Oh Zach.

"That thought never even crossed my mind, Babe. When my mom married Larry and our lives were upgraded, did you suddenly become a better friend to Gabe? Did it change your friendship with him?" He shakes his head. "Of course it didn't," I concur, shaking my head as well. "Then I hardly think you'd enter into a homosexual relationship with me merely for the money you would potentially see," I argue. "I'm doing okay financially, but by no means would I be able to have you as my kept man," I joke, smiling. He rolls his eyes. "So let me treat you once in a while, because I can and it makes me happy to, okay?"

"Fine, but next time we go somewhere, I'm paying," he insists. "Maybe, uh, maybe tomorrow night we could go to that bar again? Or another one…" he drifts off; his blush has returned. Zach _wants_ to go to a gay bar? Done.

"That'd be great," I reply, then remember Tony's coming tomorrow. "Hey, actually about tomorrow, I have a buddy traveling through town and he wants to meet up. If you're cool, he could join us wherever we decide to go?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Awesome, you're gonna love Tony. We went to CalArts together and I haven't seen him in a couple years," I explain. The talk about money seems to be resolved, but he's still unaware of my biggest splurge: Cody's surprise tomorrow. Shit. "Look, I need to tell you something, but you have to stay calm," I begin.

"Oh God, what? Is Tony your ex or something?" he asks, eyes wide. I laugh.

"No, not that. Tony's just a friend I promise. No this is, uh, a money thing." He grimaces then looks at me, waiting.

"I kind of special-ordered a wetsuit and board for Cody. I was gonna give them to him tomorrow when you come over."

"You did what?"

"Well, you said you were holding off on taking him surfing, and I remembered what fun I had teaching you and I didn't want you to have to wait a few more years to share that with him."

"Shaun, that shit is expensive," he shakes his head at me.

"Well, don't even consider it for you then, it's for Cody. I can cancel the order if you're absolutely against it, but I really, really wanted to do it."

"You're gonna spoil him rotten," he says, but there's a slight smile creeping onto his face. I could buy him anything and as long as I include Cody as the explanation, it would be nearly impossible for him to decline. "How am I gonna explain it to Jeanne?" I have no answer for that, really, considering I don't even know if she knows Zach and I have been in contact, but I don't want him to turn it down in fear of her.

"You can leave them at my place, with all the other boards and suits we've got, no worries," I offer. "But, don't you think Cody'll mention it to her?"

"That could work," he admits. "She, uh, she doesn't really like, ask him a lot of questions. I doubt he'd bring it up to her," he concludes. Jeanne loses more points with me, not that she really had many to start with.

"Does she know I'm in town? That we've been hanging out?" I finally ask. Now that he brought her up, I feel it's fair game. He looks away.

"She knows we've been out surfing." Well, it's more than I expected. "And she warned me that you're gay, not that I hadn't already figured that out a few years ago on my own, but she, um, expressed concern that you might not be someone I'd want to spend time with half-naked," he quietly states. "And she told me to keep Codes away from you." _Fucking bitch_.

"Oh." It's all I can come up with. He puts his hands over mine, which normally would be a huge deal considering we're in public where people he might know could see, but I'm reeling from his confession so I don't even notice until he squeezes. I squeeze back and gain my composure. "And how do you feel about that?"

"Well, uh, I obviously haven't really taken her opinions into consideration at all. And Codes is pretty much the Vice President of Team Shaun right now," he continues, looking over at the boy who is diving through a slide into the ball pit. "What she doesn't know can't hurt her, you know?"

"How long can it last, though?" I ask. "At some point, he'll mention it, or someone will see us and tell her."

"I know, but I _don't know_, Shaun," he replies. "I'll deal with that when it happens I guess."

"Do you see yourself telling her about us? Like, any time in the near future?" I enquire, swallowing hard.

"She's gonna be a lot harder to tell than Gabe," he admits. "I'm afraid she'll take Cody away," he whispers, his eyes glassy. "I just need time to figure it out." _Oh Babe_. I squeeze his hands again now. This impossible situation makes me so frustrated, but something from this entire conversation inspires my subconscious. I vow to examine the problem fully when I'm alone with the hopes of coming to a conclusion that will work.

Our order arrives and Zach calls Cody to come eat. He wolfs down his chicken, and most of the carrots and celery Zach ordered as its side, anxious to get to the brownie and more play time. I pick at my sandwich, having lost most of my appetite at this point. Cody finishes and speeds off to an area that's built like a rock-climbing wall. Zach finishes his cheese crisp before speaking again.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"For all of this. Not having the guts to tell my sister and your brother about us, being weird in public, balking at you paying for dinner, all of it."

"Hey, I said I'd give you time to adjust. If it becomes a major issue, I'll let you know, okay?" He nods his head but looks so down-trodden. "I can't imagine you without Cody, so if keeping Jeanne in the dark until we can figure that out is what it takes to keep him in your life, and therefore also in mine, I'll do it, and do it happily."

He looks up at me and smiles. "Why are you so perfect?" he asks. I know this to be far from the truth so I just smile back.

"That's not true. I can't cook, or figure out car seats," I offer.

"You're right. I guess you're lucky to have me around then," he quips back.

"Definitely. You're a keeper."


	29. Chapter 29

_Zach smiles and shakes his head and I begin to clean up the table. _

_ "Cody, five minutes," he warns, pulling our shoes from his bag. As I'm lacing up my sneakers, Cody emerges from the play structure. _

_ "That was so fun!" he exclaims as he slips his shoes on. "Are we gonna go to your house now, Shaun?" he asks._

_ "No, that's tomorrow, Buddy," Zach answers._

_ "Aww, I thought we could have a sleep-over!" Cody laments. "I wanna nap in the Bat-Cave again." Zach gives me a strange look._

_ I quietly mouth 'I'm cool with it,' over Cody's head to his uncle. _

_ "Uh, okay Codes, are you sure?" he asks his nephew. "I know sometimes you have nightmares when you wake up not at home."_

_ "Not in the Bat-Cave, I won't," Cody assures back. __Yes._

_ "Okay well, we'll swing by the house to get our stuff, and if you change your mind, that's okay."_

_ We head to the car, and I'm a little giddy at the thought of having them unexpectedly spend the night, and glad that I'd already sent in my revisions so the rest of the night is free. We arrive at Zach's place and they run inside to grab clothes for tomorrow, pajamas, and Zach's phone charger while I get in my car and head home. I arrive about ten minutes before they do and have put my new Cody original on the fridge for display. He notices immediately and beams, quite proud of himself. He's wearing Batman pajamas and is too cute._

_ We settle down in the living room for a while and I turn on a cartoon for the boy. Within an hour, his head is nodding, and he's about to fall asleep. Zach picks him up and begins carrying him upstairs to the brown bedroom. We tuck him in. _

_ "Sleep well, Cody," Zach whispers._

_ "Sleep well, Zach. Sleep well Shaun," he replies, yawning._

_ "Sleep well, Codes," I reply, loving this ritual more and more every time I participate in it._

_ Zach shuts the door and we creep back downstairs. He'd also changed into his pajamas before coming over, a tank top and pajama bottoms with a variety of comic book characters covering them. He looks so young right now and notices me smiling at him._

_ "What?" he asks, looking at himself to see what's amiss._

_ "Nothing, you just look cute in your PJs," I answer._

_ "Cody wanted us to match for the sleep-over," he responds, shrugging his shoulders._

_ "I uh, haven't seen you in PJs before. You're usually wearing, um, a lot less when you spend the night," I tease, smiling._

_ "Shut up," he says, shoving my shoulder. "Tonight I'm staying in this outfit," he confirms, and I wonder if this is some sort of playful dare._

_ "Okay," I reply, then grab his hip and slide my hand down into the bottoms, pinching his butt. "Yeah, these should be fine," I assess with a leer._

_ "Ouch! Dude, you pinched my bruise!" he exclaims. _

_ "Oh! The hickey? Sorry Babe," I slip both my hands back inside and rub his ass as I kiss him. We make out as he slips his hands under my sweater and massages my lower back. Before things get too out of hand, I pull back. _

_ "Uh, what are the rules with the Grasshopper in the house?"_

"I mean, he could actually probably sleep through anything, but I don't wanna test it out, especially in a place he's not totally familiar with," he begins. "So, maybe a little heavy petting is okay, but nothing we'd have to explain as more than wrestling. Is that cool?"

"Works for me," I reply. It's further than I expected him to go so I'll take it. "I better put some pajamas on as well if this is going to be a proper sleepover," I wiggle my eyes. "Wanna come help me pick them out?" We quietly pad upstairs and I grab a clean tank top and find an old set of PJ bottoms with a retro-style print of cowboys and Indians on them. I show them to Zach, who nods, then pull off my clothes to change.

"You kept it on!" he exclaims when he sees the sheen on my abdomen from his "tattoo" this morning.

"I told you I would," I reply, pulling up the pants and patting the faint remnants of his morning doodle. After a busy day of surfing and more, there's hardly any evidence of it there. He pulls up his shirt to reveal his matching stomach.

"I didn't think it would be this easy to get you out of your clothes!" I enthuse. He pulls his shirt down and sticks his tongue out at me as I laugh. "Are you gonna stay in here or do you want another guest room?" I ask.

"I think if we keep the door open, I'll hear if Codes wakes up," he decides, and I'm glad for it.

"Yeah, and I gotta be up early to go get his surprise, so it might be a non-issue if I do that before he wakes up."

"That's cool," he grabs me for a kiss. We continue kissing as he backs me up to the bed. I sit down and pull myself into the bed and under the covers as he goes to turn off the lights, before crawling in next to me. I kiss his forehead, so happy and at peace in this moment, completely different then my freak-out last night, which I really hadn't thought about too much today. He sighs and it sounds just as content as I feel.

"Why were you surprised I didn't wash away your drawing?" I ask. He's begun his finger movements across my chest but my shirt is in the way. I pull it up to give his hand access to my bare skin, dropping the shirt over his moving arm.

"'Cause I didn't know if you would think that was totally gross," he lazily replies.

"I was surprised _you_ didn't think it was too much," I admit pulling him even closer.

"I think, I think you do strange things to me too," he admits. I swallow and rub his back. "Like, in theory, it's kinda gross, but I dunno, having part of you on me where no one could see or knew it was there was pretty hot, you know? And knowing you had the same thing made it like, a private joke we share. I think that's why I like marking you too. I've never been big on hickies you know, but with you, I just have this need to, uh, _brand_ you or something, does that make sense?"

"Yeah it totally does," I reply. "Maybe it's the whole keeping it a secret that makes us want to silently acknowledge we're together," I surmise. "I've never been turned on by having a guy wear my clothes until you, so that's _my_, uh, less physical way of branding you," I conclude.

We fall into silence and eventually fall asleep. I wake up several hours later to my alarm going off and Zach curled up against me, hand still under my shirt, over my heart. I grab my phone to silence the alarm, hoping it didn't wake Cody so I can just relish the moment before disturbing the man lying against me. This scenario seems so perfect and natural. Waking up next to the man I love, the kid we love down the hall, plans for the day and a surprise in store. All it needs is a white picket fence to be complete.

I sigh and slowly start to disentangle myself from Zach. He wakes up and his sleepy eyes and lazy smile make my heart pound. I kiss him good morning and force myself out of bed to get dressed. After I change, he rolls out of bed as well and follows me downstairs, turning on the coffee maker as I hunt for my keys. We have impeccable timing because just as I locate my key chain, the door to the Bat-Cave slams.

Cody runs downstairs, excited for the new day.

"How'd you sleep, Buddy?" Zach enquires.

"Good!" his nephew replies.

"You want some cereal?" I offer. "We have Rice Krispies, granola, or I think I saw some of Gabe's Frosted Flakes in the pantry," I elaborate.

"Frosted Flakes, 'cause they're g-r-r-eat!" Zach pulls a bowl down and grabs the box from the cupboard, as I head out to my car. "Where you going, Shaun?" Cody asks.

"Oh I'll be right back Codes," I assure him. "Just gotta run an errand real quick."

"Okay," he allows, and I laugh. I drive to the surf shop and they've got my items ready to go. I thank them again for the super-quick turnaround and head back home, stowing the board and wetsuit on the side of the house along with all the others.

I come back inside and they've changed into board shorts, green ones for Cody, and a pair of mine on Zach. _Branded._ Any evidence of Zach's ab-tattoo from yesterday is gone. I run upstairs to change into my swim trunks and to wipe off any leftover proof on my own stomach. I head back downstairs to join them, totally excited for Cody's reaction.

"Hey Codes, I'm gonna cover your eyes 'cause Shaun's got a surprise for you," Zach explains. I grab the board and suit to show as Zach pulls his hands away.

Cody opens his eyes as I shout "Now you can go surfing with us!" His jaw drops and he squeals, running to grab me in a hug. I scoop him up loving the joyful look in his eyes that match the look in his uncle's. He's shaking in my arms he's so excited, and I can't help but laugh.

"I'm gonna be a surfer dude like you and Zach and Gabe!" he exclaims. "Let's go now!"

"First you gotta learn the basics, Codes," Uncle Zach chimes in with a laugh. "It's gonna be a while before you're out on the waves. Shaun's the best teacher though, so I'm sure between the two of us you'll be hanging ten in no time." My stomach drops when he says this. I will always want Cody between the two of us.

We take the new board along with a couple others to the private beach and I give Cody his first lesson on paddling out. He's too excited to fully grasp what we're doing, but it's a start. After a while, I call a halt to lessons so we can go swimming in the pool. Cody insists on bringing the wetsuit along and sets it next to his towel and flip flops. We spend a couple hours swimming and splashing and playing in the pool before Zach says it's time to get out.

"Codes, we gotta head home soon," he says in a more somber voice than he's had all day. Jeanne must be on her way back to SP.

"Hey Ankle-Biter, I'm gonna miss you but next time we get together we'll do more surf lessons, okay?" I offer.

"Okay," he replies, looking disappointed his fun is coming to an end.

"We're gonna leave your surf gear at Shaun's, just like I have my board stashed here, okay Buddy?" Zach adds.

"Yeah, that's fine," Cody consents. We get out of the pool to dry off and go inside to change. Cody turns the TV back on to cartoons as he waits for his uncle to change.

I head upstairs to my room with Zach close behind. He shuts the door behind us.

"That was so amazing," he gushes. "Thank you."

"Thank you," I reply with a kiss. "I absolutely love hanging out with the two of you and can't wait for more surf lessons with Codes. I'm grateful to know him." He grabs my face and gives me a hard kiss, and I wrap my arms around him and we continue for a few minutes. He pulls away to change, this time grabbing a pair of my flip flops to wear home.

"I'll call you later about tonight," he promises as he zips his hoodie halfway. "And it's my treat, so maybe I'll get you drunk and have my way with you," he grins.

"I can guarantee you, I'm a sure thing, Babe," I wink. "You gonna spend the night again?" I hopefully ask.

"I told Jeanne I was gonna need some major time with the waves after so much babysitting lately," he smiles. "The kind where I spend the night surfing." He gives me one last kiss before heading out. "Late."

"Late." I agree, eagerly anticipating tonight.


	30. Chapter 30

I use the afternoon to work on my ghost script, which is coming along nicely, and the book, which is possibly my best work yet. It's like all the words and thoughts and phrases that I hadn't been using over the past couple years are falling over themselves trying to come out finally. The phone rings and it's Tony.

"Hey man, how are you?" he asks.

"Good, good you know?" I reply, loving the fact that my life _is _so good.

"So, what are the plans? Where do you wanna meet up?" he asks. If I recall correctly, we had some crazy times at a nearby bar, so I suggest that.

"How about Club Ripples?" I offer, smiling as I remember a trip we took there together in our college days.

"Oh my God, yes!" he responds and I can hear a smile in his voice. "Maybe we'll find you a new man, eh? I heard about Rich…" he trails off.

"Not an issue my friend. I'm _actually_ sort of seeing someone," I counter, a grin growing on my face.

"Already? That's awesome! Am I gonna get the chance to meet this paragon who's making our Shaun so happy or what?" he asks.

"Yeah, I told him my old friend was in town; he's anxious to meet you."

"Excellent. Wanna meet up around 9:30 then?" he offers.

"That works bro. See you there." I hang up, excited to see Tony. I continue typing as long as my muse and fingers are willing.

Zach calls around eight. I smile when I see his name on my phone's screen.

"Hey Babe, you off Cody-duty?" I ask.

"Yep. If you're free I can head your way," he proposes.

"Awesome, I talked with Tony and if you're down, we're meeting him at Club Ripples in an hour and a half," I explain, eager for Zach to make a connection with someone else I care about. Our private bubble here has been amazing, but my life is more than staying in the beach house temporarily and if I want him to be a part of my "real life," I need to actively include him in it.

"Sure thing," he agrees. "I'll see you soon." I continue writing until I hear his car pull up into the driveway. I get up and stretch as he walks in.

"Cody is convinced you are the coolest person on the planet," he informs me, with a grin, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.

"Well, he's obviously a very intelligent boy," I reply. "I'm glad he liked his surprise. You seemed pretty excited about it yourself."

"Yeah, I was," he admits, grabbing my waist and cuddling into my chest. I wrap my arms around him. "Thanks again," he whispers.

"Yeah, yeah," I assure him, feeling a bit uncomfortable with his gratitude for something that made me just as happy as it made him and Cody. "What's for dinner?" I ask, wanting to give him something I can be grateful for.

"Oh, God, I dunno. Have you gone shopping lately? You're like, seriously low on ingredients for even the most basic stuff, you know?"

"How about we go to the store soon and you can help me figure out what's necessary for the fridge and pantry since I'm so woefully inept at it," I tease. "It's a wonder I made it this long without dying of starvation or food poisoning." He laughs and lets go of me to check out what I _do_ have in the kitchen.

"Mmm, how 'bout grilled cheese and tomato soup?" he asks, having found the American cheese I'd grabbed for Cody.

"That'll work," I agree. He gets down to business, pulling out a skillet and pot along with the basics I would have grabbed to make the meal and some other things I never would have thought to include. I go back to work on my laptop, occasionally looking up to watch him prepare the meal. He's so focused and adorable, that any work I would have gotten done in the short time is pretty useless because my focus is on him and not the story in front of me. I give up to join him as he's stirring a pot of delicious-smelling tomato soup, which is more than just a can of red goo and water or milk that I'm used to. There are spices and herbs and chunks of vegetables simmering within it, and the sandwiches are more than just a slice of cheese between two pieces of bread. They've got a few different types of cheese, ham, and tomatoes nestled between the perfectly grilled bread slices. My mouth begins to water in anticipation for this elevated version of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.

"Forget about having you as a kept man, I gotta make more money so I can hire you as my personal chef!" I kid, grabbing Zach for a quick kiss before he turns the stove off. He smiles as we end the kiss and grabs the dishes he'd set on the counter to serve the meal. We sit down at the table to eat. Apparently I was starving because I practically inhale my food. I realize I'd been typing through lunch and missed it entirely. Zach smiles at me as I sop up the last of the soup with my last corner of sandwich and pop it in my mouth. "Delicious," I smile. "Thank you, Babe." He shakes his head as I gather my dishes to take them into the kitchen and begin washing everything. He finishes his food at a more leisurely pace and brings his dishes to me as I'm finishing rinsing out the pot. I throw them in the dishwasher and set it. "Ready to go?"

"Um, yeah," he replies. We head outside. "I'll drive," he offers. We get in the Jimmy and I give him general directions to Club Ripples. "Is there, uh, anything I should know about Tony?" he asks as we pull out of the neighborhood.

"We had several classes together at CalArts and have been friends ever since," I begin. "He is a high school English teacher who lives in Seattle usually but travels along the coast to a place he's got in Mexico during the summer. We had a few crazy times at the bar we're going to right now, so I figured he'd enjoy visiting now as a more, uh, mature adult," I chuckle at the hazy memories I have of our time at Ripples.

"So he's gay too?"

"Yep."

"So, how many of your friends are you know, gay, versus like, straight?" he asks. I reflect for a moment before answering.

"I would say it's about 60/40. I never really thought to count, but that feels about accurate. Working in LA and Hollywood, you meet a lot more gay people than you would in an average city. It's pretty prevalent in the entertainment industry and creative fields in general so it's a relative non-issue where I live and work." He thinks on this for a few seconds.

"And you and Tony never dated?" he confirms. I grin. _Is he jealous? Nervous?_

"Nope. Strictly platonic friends," I assure. "Would it be weird for you if we had?" I ask, intrigued about what is going through his head. He grips the steering wheel and his knuckles pale.

"No, not like, weird," he pauses before speaking again. "I'm just curious," he admits. "Like, why didn't you guys date? What did you tell him about me? The one-night stands you mentioned before, do those include friends, or like, people you didn't really know?" Wow, that's a lot of curiosity he's got. I sort through the questions before answering them.

"Oh! We didn't date for several reasons: he's not really my type, we both prefer bottoming, and we were both in relationships when we met," I begin, ticking question one off his list. "He mentioned my break up and encouraged me that tonight I might find someone and I told him I was 'sort of seeing' someone. He wanted to meet you, so I said he could. I hope you're okay with that?" I ask, realizing though I didn't give him a 'label,' it was still, technically a breach of our agreement. He nods and I smile in relief. "As for one-night stands, most were random hook-ups with people I'd just met, but a few were friends. We thought we'd explore the possibility of being more, but for whatever reason, it didn't work out, but we stayed friends," I explain.

"Does that happen a lot?" he asks.

"Well, the dating pool's considerably smaller, so it's not totally uncommon. I'm still on good terms with most of my exes, if the split was amicable that is." He nods his head in understanding.

"Like Tori and me. I think we'll always be friends, even though we're going through uh, a rough patch right now," he elaborates, then thinks for a few moments. "So, if Tony's not your 'type,' then what is?"

"Hmm," I begin. "Well, I would have to say, 22 year old surfer artists are definitely my type," I grin, poking his elbow. He just shakes his head. "When I was a kid I had a thing for Ralph Macchio," I admit.

"The guy from that _Karate Kid_ movie?" I nod. He considers this for a moment before coming to a conclusion. "So you like guys from the ghetto?"

I laugh at his assumption. "Hey, don't forget, I'm from the ghetto too, Student." He smiles and shakes his head looking up at the sky. "I like nice guys. I like guys that do their own thing, but also have shared interests. I like guys who make me laugh and are attractive inside as well as out. I like guys with ambition and drive who are loyal. It's not about where you come from, it's about where you're going." I finish. "I like you." _I love you._

"Well, I like you too."

"Good, I'm glad we have that settled," I declare with a smile.

"And I'm sure I'll like Tony."

"Oh, no doubt. He's a fun guy," I assert as we pull into the parking lot, which is much fuller than The Silver Fox's was. Zach looks around, his eyes wide. "If you get overwhelmed, we can go somewhere else," I assure him. He shakes his head, grabs my hand and marches toward the entrance.

The bar is pretty busy, and it takes a few minutes to get through the line formed at the door, but we find an empty high-top table and claim it. Zach, ever the thoughtful fellow, hunts down a third stool and brings it over for our guest. Tony arrives and we hug, mid-embrace he gives me a quick peck on the cheek. Zach looks a little startled but doesn't say anything.

"Tony my man, I want to introduce you to my, uh, _friend_, Zach. Zach this is my college buddy, Tony," I make introductions. They shake hands.

"How's it goin'?" Zach greets him.

"Good. Nice you meet you," Tony replies.

"Yeah, you too man. Hey, what does everyone want to drink? I'll go order at the bar," Zach offers.

"I'll have a beer," I order. He nods.

"Can I get a vodka soda, splash of cran with a lime?" Tony asks.

"Got it," Zach heads to the bar. As he walks away, Tony starts grilling me.

"Shaun you old rebound-hound, you certainly found yourself a sweet young thing to console yourself with," he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows as he pokes me with his elbow.

"Nah, man, Zach's not a rebound. He's _important_." I can't quite express to my friend what Zach means to me and after such a short time, so I don't try to, going for 'less is more," information-wise.

"Isn't he a little young to be attracting you? I mean, he can't be much older than 21 and that's never been your style," he asks.

"He's 22, but his life experiences make him much more mature than us when we were that age," I explain, wondering for the first time how we look to others. _Is he too young for me?_ For all the joking we do, I don't actually feel a lot older than him. Intellectually, we're pretty well-matched. I may have gone to college, but Zach certainly hasn't spent the last four years reading comic books and watching cartoons. He's able to keep up with me with no problems, so the difference in our ages which were extreme ten years ago seem like barely anything now.

"I mean, don't get me wrong, he's definitely eye-candy, and I hope someone mentions your new boy-toy to Rich, but are you _serious_ about him?" my friend enquires.

"More serious than I've ever been about anyone else," I honestly and somewhat emotionally admit. Tony finally gets it and stops ribbing me.

"Well then, I should get to know him, 'cause if he's important to you, he must be pretty special," he concludes. I smile. Zach returns with drinks in hand and we all settle in. Tony looks at him as he takes a sip. "So, Zach, what do you do?" he asks, eager to see in him what I do.

"Uh, like for work?" he responds, flustered. He takes another quick sip of beer and I can see he's nervous. _Come on Babe, be your charming wonderful self!_

"Sure, or if you have any big hobbies, I'd love to know about them," Tony includes.

"Uh, right now, I'm working at Pacific Diner. I also do a lot of street art. Uh, I like to surf too," he adds, taking another sip.

"Zach's an amazing artist," I interject, in an attempt to show him in the best possible light, the way I see him. "He's applying to CalArts in fact," I add. "And he helps care for his five year old nephew Cody, who is the coolest kid you could ever imagine."

Tony's eyes are wide as he takes it all in, nodding his head. I can tell he's not impressed.

"And you both enjoy surfing," is all he can come up with. My heart breaks. I know he's looking out for my best interests by asking lots of questions, but he doesn't know all the cool things that make Zach an amazing man.

"Yeah, actually, Shaun taught me when I was a kid, and now we're teaching Cody," Zach replies with a smile.

"Oh, you've known each other for a while then?" Tony asks, surprised.

"For 14 years," Zach affirms, finishing off his beer.

Tony's eyes knit together as he processes this. "Wait, are you, _Gabe's friend?_" he asks, putting the pieces together. Zach slightly blushes as he nods his head. I finish my beer in record time as I run through my mind anything I may have mentioned about Zach in passing while with Tony over the years. I can't think of anything specific. "So what does he think of his brother and friend getting together?" Tony innocently asks. Anything 'slight' about Zach's blush changes; his cheeks are now crimson.

I jump in. "We uh, we haven't had the chance to tell him yet," I explain. I notice Tony's drink's a little low, and mention it to Zach, who looks miserable. "Hey, Babe, another round?" I ask, gesturing to our empties. He nods and heads back to the bar, relief in his eyes.

"So, is he like, a childhood wet dream come to life?" my friend asks, not maliciously, but with genuine curiosity.

"No, no, man. It's not like that at all," I begin, desperate to have Tony see a sliver of what I see in Zach. "And I know from your perspective, it might not look like we make sense, but he makes me _so_ happy."

"Well, I do admit you seem happier than the last couple of times I saw you," he acknowledges. "And even though you and Rich made sense on paper, I never really liked him, and clearly he showed his stripes in the end, so if this Zach kid is your bliss, I say, follow it!" he encourages, rubbing my arm with a grin.

"Thanks bro," is all I can choke out, so I give him a hug. "Seriously, once you get to know him, you'll adore Zach," I promise. He nods and finishes his drink. We chat about a couple classmates we still keep in contact with and after a while, I notice that Zach's not back yet. I look to the bar and see him, holding three fresh drinks but surrounded by some young, good looking guys chatting him up. Tony notices as well. I don't want to go rescue him if he doesn't need it, or look like a possessive control-freak to Tony, but I also don't want him feeling uncomfortable here so I debate whether or not to step in. He appears to be holding his own, so I stay put and just observe.

A tall, blonde hottie in a white muscle tee that accentuates his dark tan is talking to Zach, and from here it looks like he's flirting pretty hard. Meanwhile a shorter brunette with a hippy vibe is looking him up and down, obviously mentally undressing him. Finally a sharply dressed and striking ebony-skinned man is also attempting to get his attention. Zach doesn't look intimidated or flattered by their attention but he does seem confused to have it and I smile. He seriously has no clue that he's a looker. After a few more moments he excuses himself and heads in our direction. Three heads turn in our direction as he approaches and I smile harder. Zach distributes the drinks and I thank him with a big sloppy kiss.

"What did those guys want?" I ask when I let him go and pull a sip from my new beer. Tony is smirking, seeing my kiss for exactly what it was: telling anyone with their eyes on Zach to move along.

"Uh, apparently, if I'm interested, there's some fun times going on in the men's room," he begins. "Including but not limited to: rim jobs, taking bumps, and a glory hole." _Oh my God._

"Wow, that's uh, quite an offer," I exclaim. He doesn't seem traumatized, so I wonder how much he understood about what was being presented to him. "How did you reply?"

"I pointed to our table and said I was previously committed for the evening. Then uh, the blonde said you two seem a little old to be 'any fun.' So I said between the Viagra prescriptions and medical marijuana you have on hand, my experiences with the two of you have been rocking my world and unfortunately I was too sore and exhausted to join in on their good times." I spit my beer out from laughing and Tony's chuckling as well. "Then I said I needed to get back to 'my two daddies' because the home closes soon so I gotta get you back before then," he finishes and I'm heaving from hysterical laughter.

"I get it, Shaun," Tony chokes out between giggling fits. "I totally see what you mean!" Zach looks confused by his comment, but it warms my heart that Tony's been won over, so I pull Zach closer and give him another kiss.


	31. Chapter 31

I release Zach from my embrace and he's sporting a very self-satisfied smile. He's certainly more comfortable as he hasn't grabbed his beer yet, and Tony is still laughing. My friend calms down and finally speaks.

"Oh, to be young and so full of yourself!" Tony laughs, then looks at Zach. "Not you—them!" he clarifies. "I remember a few years back thinking I was the shit and anyone over 29 was ancient. Give them a few more years and they'll be standing where we are, but I doubt they'll have a hot young guy defend their honor so well! Thanks my man," he continues, giving Zach a friendly clap on the on the shoulder. "I owe you, dude! But please collect payment before dropping us off at the home or I'll completely forget it even happened!" Zach smiles, and the unease that hovered around our table before is gone. I shove my hand in his back pocket (making sure it's the one over the un-bruised side of his butt) and give him a squeeze. He leans in closer and grabs my hip.

"It's all good, man," he grinningly assures Tony. "The looks on their faces made it definitely worth it."

"Well, now that it's settled and we're not going back to 'the home' anytime soon, cheers, fellas!" I encourage, and we clink our drinks.

After taking his sip, Tony looks around and takes in the crowd. "Some things never change, eh, man?" he asks me. I look about. It's the same energy as the last time we came here, just with a mostly different set of people. "Hey remember the time we got wasted and I was all over that guy who was doing the traveling musical in Pomona, and you went home with that bouncer," he reminisces with a smile. Zach tenses slightly in my arm.

If we're going to be a part of each other's lives and futures, he's going to have to reconcile the me he likes now with my past, so I squeeze his ass again. "He was during a slutty phase," I whisper, unashamed, passing off the incident as nothing because it really wasn't anything major. Zach nods his head. Tony doesn't notice our brief and quiet exchange. I sip my beer and laugh as Tony continues on various antics we've had, both here and elsewhere. Zach takes it all in and doesn't say much. We continue to chat and Tony offers to get another round.

"Uh, just water for me," Zach requests. "I'll be driving," he explains with a smile. Tony nods and I agree when he asks if I want another beer. He wanders through the crowd to the bar. "Slutty phase, eh?" Zach asks with a grin.

"Yup," I concur. He doesn't seem to be weirded out and I debate mentioning the guy in question scanned his ID when we came in. I want honesty between us, so I open up to him. "Uh, the bouncer we discussed was actually working the door when we walked in," I admit. He takes a few sips of beer, finishing off his bottle and sets it down but doesn't say anything and isn't looking at me. I mentally shake my head and wait for his attention to return to me. Several heartbeats later, he looks back up at me but I can't get a read on what he's thinking. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, uh, yeah. Just processing, you know?" he asks and pulls me closer. I kiss the mole on his cheek and he smiles. Tony is at the bar chatting up someone so it'll probably be a while until we see him. I look around the room again, this time trying to see it from Zach's perspective. It's a scene from a typical gay bar: there are a lot of guys, a few pockets of women, a couple drag queens, some people cruising others, some all over the person they're with, some sitting alone, observing, and still others in groups chatting. Zach notices me scanning around. "Is this pretty normal?" he asks, intuitively understanding what I had been doing.

"Yeah for the most part."

"I don't really _look_ like most of them," he notices, unselfconsciously. Where most of the guys are dressed from the pages of Abercrombie & Fitch or another window in the shopping mall, Zach's style is more alternative and loose-fitting and suited to his surfer/skater lifestyle. I look at him and grin.

"I don't care. I like your style," I affirm. "Besides, I don't exactly look like them either. Tony once accused me of having 'more plaid than any self-respecting lesbian' so if you're looking for a gay fashion icon, I'm not a prime example."

"Nah," he shakes his head. "I like your style too," he tells me softly, but then he grins. "If I had to wear anyone's clothes in here to make up for my hickeys, I'd pick yours easily," he asserts, and then smiles bigger. "But if I was gonna guess whose clothes _you'd_ choose, and uh, knowing your penchant for dress-up, I'd guess her," he quips, pointing to a drag queen in a bedazzled dress. I roll my eyes and pinch his butt.

"What am I going to do with you?" I ask as he squeezes my waist in retaliation.

"Not ever dress like that, I hope," he smirks. _God I love him_. Tony returns with drinks and his new friend who doesn't speak much English. I don't foresee him sticking around much longer so I'm glad that he and Zach were able to bond. They're chatting in Spanish, a language which I know maybe 40 words of. Zach's eyes wander the bar and every once in a while he smiles with a slight frown. Tony's friend wanders back to the bar and he turns his attention onto us.

"Well guys, I'm probably gonna head out soon," he informs us. I nod my blessing. Zach pulls away to shake his hand.

"Hey man, it was uh, good to meet you," he offers with a smile.

"You too Zach, you too. Hey, if you're ever in Seattle, or wanna visit Mexico in the summer when I'm there, you are more than welcome, okay? And bring the old guy along if you want," he suggests, pointing his thumb at me. I shake my head and laugh while Zach nods. "And you," he approaches me for a goodbye hug, "you hold onto this one, okay?" I nod. _I'm trying!_ "He's a good guy _and_ he makes you laugh like I've never seen in the ten years I've known you," he instructs with a hard hug. I smile and nod.

"Be safe," I caution as he heads toward the Latin hottie he'll be taking home tonight. He gives me a thumbs up as he disappears into the crowd.

Zach looks at me. "One-night stand?" he enquires.

"Most definitely," I affirm.

"I thought so. That guy was saying some pretty obscene things to Tony."

"Oh God! Is that why you were smiling and grimacing at the same time?" I ask, catching on. He hadn't been looking at the crowd, he'd been eavesdropping!

"I know enough Spanish to know Tony's in for 'a wild ride' and will be getting 'fucked like an animal' tonight, and those are the tamer things they discussed," he informs me. I laugh, and Zach changes the subject. "Do I really make you laugh more than usual?"

"Yeah," I verify. "You do." _You also make my heart pound, my knees weak, and soul sing more than usual_, I think, but don't say aloud.

"Good," he quietly says with a shy smile. "You make me laugh more too," he whispers before kissing me. Suddenly I want him for our own 'wild ride.'

"Let's go home," I suggest.

"But I didn't even get you drunk to take advantage," he whines.

"Babe, I told you, I'm a sure thing," I explain, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively. He laughs.

"Fine, let's go," he agrees. We head to the exit, and as we approach, I see Zach giving the door-guy-I-fucked-once-a-long-time-ago the once-over. Before we advance through the door, Zach grabs me and kisses my mouth hard, thrusting his tongue between my lips, which open for him under the unexpected pressure. I get into it and open my mouth to give him better access. After a few minutes he releases me and grins.

"Gratuitous, Student," I warn as I shake my head.

"Ah, but I learned it from Master," he replies as he thrusts his hand in my back pocket as we exit. I understand what he's doing, and tuck my hand in his pocket, enthusiastic and hopeful that he's just a little possessive of me.


	32. Chapter 32

We walk to the car and get in.

"Did you have fun tonight?" I ask Zach as he's starting the vehicle.

"Yeah, I actually did," he acknowledges. "At first I didn't think I was going to, but, uh, Tony's a nice guy," he finishes, which makes happy.

"I think so."

He pauses, considering something, then speaks. "So, I understood the drug reference when those guys were talking to me, but, what's a 'glory hole' and 'rim job,' you know?" he asks innocently. I snort. _I knew he didn't pick up on them!_ Ug, how to explain? "I mean, I gathered they were uh, sexual in nature, but specifically, what was I turning down for a trip to the ol' folks home?" _Brat._

My high school sex ed teacher persona takes over. "A glory hole is a hole in a wall you stick your cock in and someone on the other side sucks you off. Some people like the relative anonymity of it and others just like to give or receive head." His eyebrows shoot up as he considers this information. "And rimming is when someone licks your ass, specifically around the, uh, sphincter." He takes his eyes off the road and looks at me as I explain this one, and I can't tell if he's grossed out or turned on by the idea.

"So those guys who don't even know me, were just offering to do that to a random stranger?" he asks, perplexed.

"Yeah, essentially," I explain. "They probably saw you as 'fresh meat' either new in town or new to the scene and figured it was worth a shot," I offer.

"That's some welcome," he replies. "Is everyone that uh, welcoming?" I laugh.

"Mmm, look at it this way, how often do you think about sex?" Zach flushes as I ask, so I give him a break. "I imagine quite a bit; you're a young, healthy, attractive 22 year old. Now before I came along with my unlimited amount of nooky available to you day and night, and whenever I could get you to myself, how often were you having it?"

He is quiet for a few seconds before speaking. "Uh, when Tori and I were officially together, maybe once or twice a week, depending on stuff. When we weren't officially together, sometimes more if she was wanting to get back together, but usually less if she was pissed about something."

"Exactly, women tend to equate sex with _more_, whether it's time, or emotion, or romancing, or whatever, so it's got a higher value and is therefore available less. Either they're on their period, or not in the mood, or too busy, or you've been a jerk." He nods his head, understanding. "Most guys, when given the opportunity to have sex, will _take it _if it's made available. So put two or more guys who want to sleep with guys together, and take away a good portion of the _more_ that females require, and you get the picture: instant bath house."

"Uh, what's a bath house?"

"It's like, a club where men go to have basically anonymous sex with other men looking for the same thing." He mouths the word 'Wow,' and I can only imagine what kind of culture shock this must be.

"You've done this stuff, gone to bath houses?" he asks curious, but without judgment in his voice.

"Yeah, when I was younger I tried them out. Realized going to a bath house is _not_ for me," I swallow, wondering if he's interested in checking one out. We're not officially a couple, and I can't get mad for opening his eyes to a whole new world of options then get upset if he's curious to try things out. Though it kills me to do it, I make the offer: "Is that an idea you'd like to explore? If you want, I could take you…" I can't say anymore because the image of Zach fucking some strange dude makes me physically ill. If I wasn't already well-aware about my feelings for him, this would be a sure sign of my love because I've never made the offer before to anyone.

"No," he answers back, quietly. I mentally breathe a huge sigh of relief and realize I'd actually been holding my breath. I exhale. "I'm pretty sure it's not for me either," he confirms, his eyes back on the road.

"Well, if there's ever anything you ask about or come across on your own, and do wanna try it, lemme know, okay?" I grab his right hand, which had been sitting on his leg, and squeeze it. He looks back at me for a brief second and squeezes back.

"Okay," he agrees as we pull into the driveway.

"What's your work schedule like tomorrow?" I ask as we enter the house.

"I've got a shift from 2-9 PM tomorrow. So if you're cool with it, I'll spend the morning here before heading to the diner."

"I'm cool with that," I reply with a grin. We head upstairs and once in the bedroom, I start to undress. "I'm gonna take a quick shower if you wanna do the right thing and conserve water by joining me," I joke. He chuckles at my lame joke.

"Anything for the environment," he assures me as he pulls his pants down. I turn the water on and check the temperature with my hand. As we wait for it to adjust, I grab my toothbrush and he does the same and we brush our teeth in silence, then enter the shower. I grab the soap and lather up, then hand it to him. The silence continues and isn't a bad thing. The quiet is kind of nice. He finishes up and we wash our hair next. As I'm rinsing my hair off, eyes closed to avoid getting suds in them, he steps behind me and grabs me into a hug, arms wrapped around my front . I sigh, grateful for the contact, and wrap my arms around his arms around my ribs. He kisses my neck and we stand like that for a few minutes under the stream of water. Eventually I turn around and make the embrace face to face. The electric current I always feel when he touches me seems extra strong as we stand chest to chest.

He breaks the silence. "So, when you said you did that stuff when you were younger," he begins, and I brace myself, unsure of what to expect, "and you said it wasn't for you, were you referring to the bath house specifically? Or all of it?"

"Pretty much casual sex with strangers doesn't do it for me," I reply, giving him a kiss. "It was fun for a brief period of time, but that time's definitely over for me," I conclude. "Right now, I'm only sleeping with people who I taught to surf that also have adorable nephews," I qualify. "It's a pretty exclusive list." This is as close as I can come to saying anything about commitment. He grins.

"Are there a lot of us?"

"Nope," I shake my head. "Just you."

"Oh. We'll right now, I'm only sleeping with people who taught me how to surf." He says it so softly into my neck I barely hear it.

I turn off the water and we exit the shower. I towel off, and then Zach takes my towel to use. The amount of towels and laundry littering the floor around my room and bathroom is getting ridiculous. I begin gathering everything in the laundry basket.

"I'm gonna run a load," I announce. "You got anything that needs washing?"

"No, uh, no I'm good," Zach swallows. I take the hamper of clothes and towels to the laundry room and throw them in the washing machine. I pour in the detergent and turn it on, ruminating on why Zach's acting quiet and shy. He's normally not when it's just the two of us. I head back into my room determined to talk it out if he's upset by something. Again I wonder if I pushed too hard. He's been so open to some things and ultra-cautious about others. He's already in the bed and under the cover when I return. I shut off the bathroom light and climb in with him.

"You tired?" I ask, hoping it's exhaustion that's keeping him so silent.

"No, just uh, well, you said if I wanted to try stuff, to ask you," he begins. I shut my eyes hoping he hadn't changed his mind or decided checking out a glory hole was on his to-do list. I blink open and look at him, turning another delectable shade of pink, starting at his ears and spreading out. I kiss his nose.

"Tell me. I won't laugh or flip out, but you're starting to freak me out, dude," I whisper.

"Uh, okay fine. Are you um, into rim jobs then?" he asks, looking at the ceiling rather than me.

I can't help but laugh out a big "Ha!" and he elbows me.

"You promised you wouldn't laugh," he growls.

"That was an expression of relief!" I exclaim. "I was afraid you'd wanna go to the bath house and try out a glory hole!" I explain. He rolls his eyes and I squeeze his hip which makes him squirm.

"Eww, dude, I told you I wasn't interested in that stuff in the car!"

"Well, you're allowed to change your mind," I offer. "I don't want you to feel pressured to conform to what works for me. You're allowed to go out and experience anything that interests you…" I realize I mean it. I don't want to discourage him from exploring anything because I'm not into it; that wouldn't be fair to him. Though it breaks my heart, I continue, "…remember, no pressure and no labels."

"I know," he tells me, "and I really don't have any interest with in that other stuff. And I told you, right now, I'm only sleeping with you, so I thought I'd ask about the rimming, maybe…" he trails off for a second. "…but if that's not for you, that's totally fine," he quickly assures me. I smile but am cautious not to laugh.

"I'm down for that, Zach, but only with you."


	33. Chapter 33

"You are?" he asks, taken aback.

"Why so surprised? I said I'm not looking for random hook-ups. I didn't express a disinterest in getting freaky with you," I explain, kissing his shoulder. He smiles and it seems he's lost his nervousness. He guides my face up to his and kisses me. Our tongues fight for dominance as the kiss deepens. He presses my shoulder back against the pillows and I open my mouth and allow his oral exploration to continue as he hovers above me, his hand caressing my face then running down my neck and shoulder. I run my fingers through his hair as he pulls back.

"You wanna get freaky, eh?" he grins, and I pull him back to me, intent to kiss him senseless. I sit up and push him back down into the pillows. I rub my jaw against his and he shivers. "God your scruff makes me tingle," he admits, whispering into my ear. "It's so hot. I love it." _Holy shit, he just said the 'L' word._

This admission makes me pause as I swallow. I trace kisses down his neck on auto-pilot as I run through my head what Zach said. _He loves my scruff. He didn't say he loves me, he said he loves the feel of my beard grazing his skin._ It's a start. I continue down his chest to his super-sensitive mid-section. I run my cheek along his hip bone and he moans. I kiss across his stomach and use my chin to dip into his navel. Zach jumps as I do this so I try again and his hips wiggle. If he "loves" my facial hair I plan to use it to my advantage. My mouth follows one side the faint V at the base of his abs and across to the opposite side of his iliac furrow. He grabs my head and groans.

"Too much, can't keep going," he mutters as he pulls me up to him. I pause at his pecs and nuzzle his nipple with my whiskers, softly licking it as well. He whimpers and I peek up with a grin. His hooded eyes are completely glazed over and it's obvious he's pretty turned on. If I could give the scruff on my chin an award for a job well-done, I totally would. Instead I kiss him, which is a reward of its own. I grab some of the fluffiest pillows and set them next to his waist, directing Zach to flip over onto them giving me access to his gorgeous backside.

I position his legs far apart to settle in between them, and begin using my mouth and fuzzy jaw along his spine and around the small of his back. He grabs a pillow still near his head and squeezes it as I continue to make him a quivering mass of stimulated man. At this point, he's got goose bumps along his legs so I use my nails to lightly scrape across his hips, making them even more pronounced. His hips buck as my mouth finds the little V just above and between his butt cheeks. I nuzzle the area and kiss him there. Using my hands to gently pull apart his cheeks, I continue guiding my jaw between the sensitive curves. Just as I'm about to use my mouth to continue, Zach's cell phone starts to ring on the nightstand.

I look up from my erotic ministrations to see what he wants to do about the phone. It's pretty late for calls that aren't emergencies so he grabs it from where he is. Upon looking at the screen, he looks back at me with a confused frown. "It's Gabe," he says before flipping it open to take the call.

I use my fingers to run along his seriously sexy legs as he props himself up on his elbows to answer.

"Uh, hey dude, whassup?" he greets his best friend. "Well, it's a little late…" he continues and I wonder why Gabe's calling him. "No, I won't wake up Codes, I'm, uh, not at home." He begins to blush, and inspiration hits me. I start back up kissing where I'd paused when the phone rang. He continues squirming but doesn't motion for me to stop. I dip my tongue at the start of his crack as he attempts to continue his conversation with my brother. "Mmm, not much bro. Took the kid swimming." He jumps slightly at the introduction of my mouth to the sensitive area. I continue kissing there and go lower, then move up the slope of his ass to where the hickey I gave him the other day is. It's still a dark purple so I lightly lick it and blow cool air on it. Zach's goose bumps return. "Yeah we had fun. No, the waves weren't good where we went," he continues.

My mouth travels across both cheeks as I kiss and lick and nip and blow, while Zach attempts to maintain his composure. "Jeanne's got him for the night, so, you know…" he trails off. I return to his crack and my tongue begins darting and swirling as it approaches his hole. "Uh, went to a bar to hang out and grab a beer," he inhales sharply as I reach my destination. Pursing my lips I begin to hum lowly and press against it. His hips leap up as I do this. I pull back and use my beard for a few seconds to allow him to get accustomed to the stimulation. "No, I haven't seen her in, uh…a few days." I return my mouth to his anus and blow on it for a second. Then I softly stroke it once over with my tongue. Zach groans, then has give a reason for it to Gabe. "No, uh, just clearing my throat dude. I think I might be coming down with something," he explains. I smile at what a good sport he's being. I would have just hung up to fully focus on what's happening, but Zach's a first-rate friend and continues.

"Well, I haven't yet," he sighs. I return my attentions to his derriere. This time I kiss his puckered hole and hum for a few seconds before licking over it again. Zach stifles a groan as he speaks. "Yeah, but if I'm coming down with something, I don't wanna spread germs…" My tongue makes contact with its target and lazily swirls in a clockwise motion as Zach begins shivering. "No, I'll call him Gabe!" he spits out as my tongue enters his opening. I lap the edges and over his perineum several times, sometimes humming and other times blowing where I'd licked as his hips buck. At this point I've forgotten his phone call and am strictly focused on his pleasure. I look up and his phone is closed and he's groaning into a pillow. My phone begins to ring. Zach looks up.

"Do not answer that," he instructs with a growl before flipping over. He's rock hard. My mouth dries up as I look at him. He grabs a condom and the lube from the nightstand, never breaking eye contact with me. _I'm gonna get fucked._ I lick my lips and get into position, anticipating the cool feel of the lube. Instead I'm treated to Zach's warm breath, and now I'm the one who is shivering. He kisses my crack as the phone stops ringing. He runs his tongue along the valley twice and groans. "I can't do this right now, Sweetheart, I need to be inside you," he apologizes.

"Do it," I beg, wanting him inside me just as much. He pours the lube and thrusts inside of me hard, as my phone begins to ring again. Once inside, Zach pauses as I adjust to fit him. Then he begins pounding hard into me, each pump matching in perfect time with the ringtone. He begins plunging quicker as he approaches climax. I'm almost there myself and begin stroking my cock. He sees me doing this and bends forward to assist, applying a new pressure on my prostate which speeds the process up and I come. Within a minute he does as well and we collapse into the bed, spent.

Ten minutes or so later, I'm able to move again and grab a towel to wipe up the mess. Zach tosses the condom in the trash and we pull the comforter over us.

"What did Gabe want?" I ask. Now that my focus isn't on getting him off, I'm finally curious as to why my brother had called so late.

"He was drunk," Zach explains. "Wanted to know what was up, and if we'd made contact yet," he gestures between the two of us. "I told him I was a little sick to buy time but I dunno if he believed it. I uh, think he could tell I was um, _with_ someone. He kept saying 'Before you get spunky, cover your monkey.'" I laugh at that saying as he rolls his eyes.

"I don't know where he comes up with that shit," I grin.

"Uh, that's probably my fault," Zach admits. "I got him a 'Safe Sex' page-a-day calendar after um, a crabs scare, and it had different sayings for every day." I laugh at this and pull him closer to me.

"That was, uh, a thoughtful gift," I yawn.

"I guess," he yawns back. "I'm regretting it now though," he sighs, shaking his head. "Sleep well."

"Sleep well, Babe."


	34. Chapter 34

I wake up the next morning feeling completely lazy. Zach is still asleep so I quietly tiptoe to use the bathroom and rinse my mouth out with mouthwash. Zach had left his toothbrush on the edge of the sink so I put it back in the holder with mine. He's just waking up as I am leaving the bathroom.

"G'mornin' Sweetheart," he greets me with a squinty smile.

"Morning."

"What's for breakfast?" he asks.

"Well, if I'm in charge of it, I think there are some blueberry muffins," I reply sardonically.

"Sounds perfect. I'm not leaving this bed until I have to," he explains with a languid stretch. I run downstairs and grab them along with some fruit and orange juice. When I get back upstairs, Zach is burrowed back underneath the covers. I want these kinds of mornings beyond just when he's able to trick Jeanne into thinking he's surfing. Something in my subconscious alerts my thinking brain that there is a way for this to happen. It startles me so much that I pause in the doorway. Is there a way to make this a forever kind of thing but I've been avoiding it? Regardless now that the seed of an idea has taken root, I decide to mull over it for a while before making any life-changing decisions. I enter the room intent to enjoy the now.

Zach peeks out from under the covers. "How much time before I have to leave at noon?" he asks. I look at the clock.

"You've got about three hours then," I confirm. He smiles. "And you just want to spend them here?" I ask, pointing to the bed.

"Yup. That's the plan." He notices the tray I have. "I'm starving!" I settle onto the bed and he grabs a muffin and the carton of juice, avoiding the cups I'd brought, he drinks straight from the jug.

"Classy," I laugh, shaking my head.

"What, you're the only other person drinking this, right?" he asks. I nod my head. "Then I'm saving you from cleaning an additional dish," he grins. "Gotta conserve water, you know?" The intimateness of the act of drinking from the same bottle, something that is usually considered bad manners except among family members, makes my stomach clench. _Family_. I double my resolve to work on making a permanent option available to him soon. I grab the carton and take a sip, putting my mouth exactly where he drank from. Zach smiles and bites into his muffin. We finish the muffins and polish off the juice. I throw the tray of breakfast remnants on the floor.

Zach pulls me over to snuggle on his shoulder. I can faintly feel and hear his heart beating. We lay like that for a while before he speaks again. "I gotta stay home tonight. My dad's coming over, so…" he trails off.

"That's okay," I assure him, though I'm sad I won't be waking up next to him tomorrow morning. I hate that he's apologizing for a family obligation. "Just let me know what your schedule looks like so I can make sure I'm free when you are."

"I uh, work a double shift tomorrow, but don't have to go in until nine, and the waves are supposed to be epic in the early morning so if you want to join me for a session, I would like that," he yawns.

"Yeah, I can do that, what time are you thinking?"

"Like, six probably. I wanna show you something too." I am suddenly alert and intrigued.

"I'm pretty sure I saw it all last night," I joke with a grin. He pokes me in the ribcage.

"Fuck off," he says with no malice and a half-smile. "You showed me your surf spot. I wanna show you uh, my place I go to get away and think, you know?" I'm so touched he wants to introduce me to his spot that I have no words. He begins doodling around my chest and shoulder. "But if you're busy or it's too early, s'okay,"

"No, no! I definitely want to see your special surf spot," I assure him.

"It's more of a bluff," he explains. "It's not really anything special. There's uh, a bale of hay and that's about it. But the view is killer and I do my best thinking there," he elaborates, again yawning. I look up to him and kiss his jaw. His eyes droop again and it's obvious he could use more sleep before work. I pull myself up and nuzzle his neck, inhaling his scent, before reclining into the pillows and pulling him onto my shoulder.

"It sounds perfect and I can't wait," I reassure him. "I think we should go back to sleep for a while; I'm still pretty beat," I explain. He grins and buries his head into my neck, throwing an arm over my chest as he gets comfortable.

He drifts off to sleep as I rub his shoulder. I close my eyes and begin cataloging what would need to be done to make this perfect morning a daily occurrence. I'll definitely need to call Rich, something I'd been putting off since deciding to do it a few days ago. Zach going to work will be perfect for that because I'm sure I'll be in a foul disposition after and I don't want my bad mood to touch him. I consider other calls I need to make as Zach's breathing slows as he falls deeper asleep.

What I have in mind to make it possible to have Zach and Cody as permanent fixtures in my life is drastic, and so personally "against character" that I have difficulty resolving me with what I'm prepared to do. It's something that's been quietly playing in the back of my mind for a while, but not something I've ever actually considered before today. I reflect on the situation as a writer. Would this make sense as a plot line? _Yes_. Would it be "out of character?" _Yes_. But would it fit the context of the story I've been creating with the man in my arms over the past weeks? _Yes_. It passes my own personal litmus test.

I let Zach sleep for just over an hour, mentally ticking off what will need to be done. None of it will be fun. But the end result (or at least the possibility of it since I can't exactly kidnap him away if he's not willing) will give me my own personal "happily ever after." I smile at this though as I gently rouse him from sleep.

"Hey Babe, you gotta get goin' soon," I whisper as he peeks one eye open.

"I slept this whole time?" he groggily asks.

"You did," I confirm. "You must have had a really strenuous night," I kid. He shakes his head at me into my shoulders, and I mentally picture him rolling his eyes. He grunts as he sits up.

"Why did you let me just sleep away the morning?" I shrug my shoulders. I can't really explain I'd used the time to determine his potential future.

"You clearly needed the rest."

"Oh. You make a good pillow."

"I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment and not an admonishment to lay off the muffins," I grouse. He laughs.

"Dude, you're perfect," he quietly states as he strokes my cheek. Suddenly what I'm about to do seems like a pittance for what I'll get in return.

Zach gets up and heads into the bathroom. A few minutes later he emerges looking fresher and less like he'd spent the morning in bed. He begins looking for clothes, and without them strewn across the floor for him to choose from, it takes a little more time for him to assemble an outfit. He goes into my closet and returns with a pair of my boxers and a hoodie that he wears over his own shirt. As he gets ready I enjoy the view. Knowing I'm going to have to work and deal with Rich shortly, I'm determined to enjoy our last few moments together.

"Okay I gotta go," he laments. I sit up and give him a kiss. "I'll call you," he promises before leaving my room. "Late." I lay back down for a second, hesitant to leave the bed. Finally I get up and head into the bathroom. Written on the mirror is a note in what I assume is toothpaste.

_Last night was ACES.  
xoxo  
Z_

I smile and can't bring myself to wipe it off. It's the impetus I need to call my dreadful ex. I get dressed and head downstairs with my phone. I see Cody's sand castle art on the fridge, another tangible reminder of what I want my life to become: art work displayed in the kitchen and messy mirror notes and other things I was lacking living with Rich. I didn't know I'd want this, so I didn't miss it then, but I'll fight for it now. I dial the number and hold my breath.

"Hello Shaun," Rich answers.


	35. Chapter 35

"Hello," I choke out. I think of Zach and take a deep breath, vowing to stay on task.

"I didn't expect to hear from you. You, you haven't answered my calls or texts. I am pretty sure I sent an email…" he trails off. What an asshole. He called maybe twice and I never got any text or email. I can't believe I wasted three years with this guy.

"I need to get some stuff from the condo," I state as calmly as possible.

"Yeah, you kind of left in a rush," he brilliantly answers. I roll my eyes. Drama queen Shaun has a laundry list of smart replies but I'm trying to keep this as emotionless as possible.

"So I can come get it all in a few days?" I confirm.

"Yeah. Your key still works. I'd love to be able to talk with you so if you could let me know when you'll be by, I'll make sure to be here."

"I'd rather you aren't there," I succinctly reply. "I am only going to pick up some paperwork and personal items so you don't need to be there to inventory what's leaving," I snarkily add.

"Shaun, I don't think you're going to steal things." Apparently we're both for going cool, calm, and collected on this conversation. "I would simply like to be given the opportunity to explain myself, possibly make amends," he adds. "And I know Robbie would like to speak to you as well." I inhale quickly. If Rich's betrayal was awful, at least I was able to mentally and emotionally comprehend and work through it, but my best friend's cut much deeper and I've avoided even preliminary examination of that particular hurt.

"Rich, you're going to do what you're going to do, regardless of my wishes. I don't know when I'll be by, but when I do, I'll leave the key," I offer, through clenched teeth.

"Well, then I hope to be here when you make it by," he offers. "It's been nice talking with you."

I just roll my eyes and hang up. That definitely went better than I had anticipated, but I still feel like shuddering at what a slime ball I was living with. My phone shows two missed calls—Gabe last night! I push re-dial and hope my brother's bawdy humor will ease me out of the funk I picked up during my conversation with Rich.

"PBB, what up?" he answers. I smile, already feeling the stress begin to dissipate.

"PBB?" I ask.

"Princess Big Bro," he explains. Of course. I should have known.

"I'm uh, returning your calls…" I explain, then decide to elaborate, "…the ones you made at three in the morning?" He chuckles.

"Oh, that. I'd uh, had a bit to drink and decided it was time to call my nearest and dearest," he sheepishly explains. "I'm assuming since you didn't answer you were getting busy?" he innocently enquires. I laugh and shake my head.

"Hardly," I dryly retort.

"Am I gonna have to come down there and show you how to let loose and have a good time?" I think of last night. _No baby bro, I'm having a fine time without your assistance. _

"Nah, I'm fine, G, seriously. My new place will be ready to move into in less than a week and I'll be back in LA." I swallow, hard. I really need to activate my plans quickly, and suddenly I'm proud I made that phone call to Rich. "My writing's been going phenomenally well, so the quiet time here's been worth it."

"Well you sound like you haven't even tried to go out and have fun and forget about that loser Rich. Did you end up finding batteries for your toys?" I close my eyes and remember that I helped raise him, so I have only myself to blame for how he turned out. "Maybe I don't want you calling Zach. You'll just bring him all down and shit about Tori," he decides. "Though I'm pretty sure he was getting down and dirty with some chick last night. He was moaning and tried passing it off as a cough. Dude, I know a Level 12 sex moan when I hear one!" _Level 12, eh? Not bad, Andrews._

"Okay, well, as long as you weren't needing me to bail you out of jail or something, I won't feel bad for uh, sleeping through your call," I attempt to end the conversation.

"God you're so old man! In bed and asleep before I even get home."

"Considering you were calling your brother at three, I am assuming you weren't getting lucky with a lovely young co-ed last night?" I ask, eager to reverse the focus to him.

"Nah, some of these girls here are just teases," he laments, and I quietly giggle. My brother has very little trouble finding willing women. "Makes me miss back home."

"Well, don't worry Romeo," I encourage. "You'll find a new one." He laughs. I tell him this whenever he's down on his luck with the ladies.

"Yeah, yeah. And until then, my hand's my friend." I groan, but also smile, now knowing where he's been getting these ridiculous sayings. "Peace bro."

"Peace out Gabe." I hang up and grab my laptop.

I spend the next few hours writing, occasionally taking a quick break to research something or return an email. Before I realize, the sun has set. I take a break from writing to focus on Operation Together Forever. Specifically I need to find Mom's and Larry's itinerary. According to the very detailed email she sent Gabe and me, they're in Monte Carlo until next week. I jot down the pertinent info and look up the time difference between there and California, which is nine hours. If I want to call at ten in the morning, I need to be up at one in the evening here. I look at the time on the corner of the screen: three and a half hours.

I rummage through the fridge, vowing to hit the grocery store soon, because Zach was not kidding about the lack of anything to eat. I find a can of tuna and make a sandwich. As I stand in the kitchen finishing my dinner, my phone rings. Zach.

"We're gonna have to go grocery shopping soon Babe, this is bad," I answer with a smile.

"I _told_ you!" he replies, chuckling.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Some sketches, you know? For uh, the CalArts portfolio." _Yes!_

"That's great!" I encourage, and because I miss him I add: "Hey let me know if you need to submit any uh, _life_ drawings. I'd be happy to model…" I grin, fading out.

"Shut up!" he insists, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

"Anything for the arts! How was your shift?"

"Fine. Nothing special. I came home, had dinner with my dad and Codes. Put him to bed and am callin' you now." I can hear him sketching in the background.

"I uh, I liked your note," I admit.

"Oh you did?"

"Yeah. It's nice to feel appreciated. Oh, and I spoke with Gabe," I inform him. "He apparently wasn't fooled by your fake cough and claimed you released a 'Level 12 Sex Moan' instead."

"Oh God," Zach mutters. "We uh, created a list of sex moan levels when we were sophomores. Level 12 is the top one." I laugh at teenage Gabe and Zach's antics as I imagine the man at the end of the line furiously blushing.

"Well then I guess I should be flattered."

"Well, I did use toothpaste to tell you how aces it was," he quietly admits. "We still set for six tomorrow?"

"You bet, I'll need directions."

"Okay, I'll text them to you when I hang up. I'm gonna have to go soon. It's hard to sketch and talk on the phone at the same time," he warns me, and I imagine him drawing while clenching the phone between his ear and shoulder. "But I wanted to check in like I said I would."

I want to encourage his portfolio-building so I decide not to even attempt to extend our conversation. "Then that's more important so I'll letcha go now, Babe. Sleep well."

"Sleep well too, Shaun," he ends our conversation. I hang up and look at the time.

It will be another three hours before I can call. I debate whether to stay up or set my alarm. I decide to set a wake up reminder since I have to hit the beach bright and early in the morning so I'll be getting up earlier than normal.

As I settle into my bed, I reflect on my life growing up. When Mom and Larry got together, I was happy for her but not necessarily excited about adding him to my small family. He usurped my position of "man of the house" and completely changed our lives in the process. My mom and Gabe took it in stride and had no issues, but it was particularly difficult for me to embrace my new step-father. He didn't do anything wrong, but to teenage me, he certainly wasn't my dad and couldn't come close to replacing him. Our relationship has always been stilted and much more formal than his and Gabe's. I know and understand that the difference is my choice. Looking objectively at the situation, I can see that I was a bit of a brat about Larry. He genuinely tried to include me but I insisted on the distance.

Comparing Larry's entrance into my life with what I'd like to create with Zach, I can see the similarities and it makes me feel ashamed about how I treated Larry. He wanted to join a ready-made family 13 years ago and used everything in his power to make it happen, which is exactly what I'm attempting to do. Was he as nervous about preparing for and making the offer as I am now? Even his wealth didn't help him when it came to my reluctance and looking at the situation from his perspective allows me see that I was an ass.

I spend a while ruminating on various times he tried including himself in my life and I just brushed him off. He didn't scoff when I refused to let him help me with schooling, dealt with the gay step-son thing with no issues, and has always quietly kept to the background when I was with "my" family. How would I feel if Cody treated me like that? Zach would be worth it, but what a miserable existence. When I think of how I plan to work out getting my happily ever after, I have Larry to thank for a good portion of it, yet I never have thanked him or acknowledged him in any way. I vow to change that starting with my phone call.

With this resolution made, it's easy to fall asleep.


	36. Chapter 36

I wake up ten minutes before my alarm is set to ring. I am a little nervous; how do you make up for years of ambivalence over the phone? I shake my unease off, embracing the fact that I won't get what I want unless I take action. I place the call and wait. My mother answers and seems surprised when I ask to speak to Larry. My step-father takes the phone.

"Hello Shaun," Larry greets me from the other side of the world.

Hi, uh, hi Larry," I stutter a bit. I clear my throat to continue. "Do you have a couple minutes, alone?"

"Of course. What's up?" I hear him shuffle to another room and shut the door. I can tell from his tone he's very curious as to why I'm calling him.

"I just had a kind of realization about some things in my life and came to the conclusion that I needed to talk to you, about a few different things," I exhale, relieved to begin the process of letting go of the baggage I hadn't even realized I'd been carrying for years.

"I'm all ears," he replies, and I imagine him sitting back in his chair wondering what his standoffish step-son has to say.

"Well, to put it plainly, I haven't been fair to you. I don't know why specifically—I haven't worked all that out yet—but I never really gave you a chance when you and Mom got together to really uh, bond with me and I certainly could have respected you more," I begin.

"I see."

"Looking back, I feel terrible. I was a jerk teenager but even as an adult, I've been distant and cold when you've tried your best to reach out to me. I've refused your efforts to help me in any way and I hope to begin repairing that. I know you may think it's too late, and you tried your best, and I would understand and respect that decision, but my heart tells me I need to make this right," I spill my guts out to my step-father.

"Sure, Shaun. There's still time. I'm not planning on going anywhere for a long time and would like to know you better." I feel like a load I'd been hauling around for so long that it had just become part of what I was used to carrying is suddenly gone. I feel light enough to float and can breathe better. "May I ask, what prompted this trans-Atlantic phone call?" I could say nothing, I could say this epiphany just happened with no provocation, and he'd believe it, but to honor the spirit of our strengthened and to-be-better familial relationship, I am honest.

"I uh, am seeing someone," I begin.

"Oh, your mother will be glad to hear that. She's been so worried about your emotional and mental state…" I cut him off.

"I'd uh, actually rather you keep this between us for right now," I implore, full-well knowing it's a little early to be invoking a secret trust in our relationship.

"Of course. Mum's the word."

"Thanks. Anyway, I'm seeing someone, and, I know it's early—like, _really_ early—to be thinking of the future, but I am. He's uh, helping raise his nephew, who is the most amazing kid I've ever met. I love this kid and I love his uncle, and I want to take the next steps and be with them permanently. So, when I was thinking about that, it hit me that I'm wanting to join a ready-made family, much like you joined ours, and if the nephew treated me how I did you, it would break my heart. I don't know how you did it."

"I just really hoped you'd come around someday," he explains. "I knew I couldn't replace your dad, and I didn't want to. I realized you were helping out so much that you were practically an adult, so it must have been annoying for this old man who _wasn't _your father to come around and change things up. I didn't realize you'd be 30 when it finally happened, but I had faith that it eventually would."

"Thank you. For seeing what I couldn't until yesterday. And, I would sort of like your blessing as well…" I begin.

"Shaun, I knew the moment I met your mother that I wanted to marry her. When you know, you know. You've got a good head on your shoulders and have always known what you've wanted and gone after it. Since I've met you, I've admired that quality in you. Your brother doesn't have it and I fear I may have contributed to his lackadaisical outlook on life. You don't need my blessing to take what you want from life; you only need to want it enough." I'm stunned into silence, realizing how much in common I have with this man.

"But, I do want your blessing on one aspect. You know the trust fund you set up for my college education? The one I not-so-nicely told you I wouldn't be touching because I had a scholarship?" He chuckles.

"Yes, I'm familiar with that account. It hasn't been touched in over a dozen years."

"I might need to open it."

"You don't need my blessing for that either son," he says, and for the first time in 13 years, I don't shudder when he uses the term, knowing he uses it as an affectionate title and not an effort to get me to acknowledge he's replaced my dad. "All the paperwork on that was put fully in your name when you turned 25."

"I know, and I'm gathering the forms to work on that, but it was your money so I need your blessing to use it. I don't have the funds to set up a home for a family and moving them to where I am means…" he cuts me off.

"Then you have it, Shaun. I don't care nor am I worried how you spend the money. When I went after your mom, I used every weapon in my arsenal, knowing that while I wasn't the handsomest man around, I could take her out for a nice meal, make her life a little easier. I know she didn't marry me for my money, but I sure made our romance as comfortable as possible. I took what I wanted, and so should you."

"Thanks Larry. I mean it. I didn't know how this conversation was going to end up. And not only have you been more accommodating that I could have hoped for and certainly more than I deserve, you've inspired me and assured me about something I'm obviously nervous and hesitant about."

"You're welcome. You know, I've always been proud to call you my step-son. You're a good man Shaun, and I'm sure this family you're looking to become a part of will be lucky to have you." I swallow and can feel my eyes getting glassy. "I can't wait to meet them. Our family needs a child's laughter. And Lord knows Gabe won't settle down anytime soon." We both laugh for a second thinking about that. "Okay, well if that's all you needed to discuss, I'll let you go son. I need to come up with something to tell Evelyn, who is most likely hyperventilating in the other room, convinced you've been arrested for murder or some such nonsense. I love that woman but she can add drama to the most mundane occurrence. We might need to call Dr. Green if I can't come up with a good story. I hope to see you when we're back in three months, Shaun."

"Oh you will, Larry. Have fun on the rest of your trip and give Mom a hug for me. Bye." I hang up with the biggest grin on my face. I feel charmed. That went so ridiculously well that it gives me hope for the rest of the steps in my plan. I set the alarm on my phone for an early surfing wake-up, set it down, and get back into bed.

I wake up a few hours later, the grin still etched across my face. I jump out of the bed, eager to see Zach. I gather my longboard and a bag with my wetsuit, towel, and other surf equipment, and head to the car. I look at the address Zach texted me and head in that direction. I find the parking lot he referenced and pull in. There are a few hard-core surfers gearing up, and the waves look amazing. I see Zach's Jimmy and park next to it. He's sitting on the tailgate, gearing up. I grab my suit and hop out, sitting next to him.

"Hey Babe," I greet him enthusiastically.

"Hey there yourself. You're awfully chipper this morning," he regards me suspiciously. The other beach-goers have headed for the shore, so I make it obvious I've looked around and the coast is clear, then plant a kiss on his lips.

"I am chipper!" I reply after pulling back. It's a beautiful day, the waves are epic, I'm with someone who does weird things to me, and I do weird things to him too. Is there anything not to be chipper about?" I reply with a smile.

"Did you find Gabe's stash of weed or something? You're never like this in the morning," he asks, confused. And I love the fact that he knows "how I am" in the morning.

"Ha! No. I'm just in a good mood, ready to see your bluff and surf. What do you wanna do first?"

"Uh, let's hit the waves first. They're pounding too hard to pass up, and the bluff will be there after they've died out."

"Then let's do it," I agree. We grab our boards and head to the shore. The waves live up to the hype they received and we paddle out several times before calling it quits. With an hour before he has to leave to get ready for work, we stow the boards and he takes me to his bluff.

Zach is right, it's not anything to look at. An old bale of hay is the only feature. But the view. _Oh my._ You can see miles of ocean and beach. I can see why he does his important thinking here. It's inspiring. We sit on the straw pile and he looks at me, shyly.

"I told you, it's nothing special," he begins. I place my index finger over his lips.

"It's beautiful. It's amazing. Thank you for sharing this with me," I quietly say. He grabs my face and kisses me.

"I was, uh, here for a while before I came to see you that night," he admits with pink cheeks.

"You were?"

"Yeah, I had convinced myself to just do it while sitting right where you are, and then I went home and saw Jeanne and lost my nerve. Later that night, I was working on a new painting and you popped back into my head. You are the only one who encourages me to paint and I was so mad, you know, that I had let myself chicken out when all I wanted to do was finish what we started on your deck. So I came." I smile, remembering how I thought he might have been drunk or high to do that. But I understand that giddy _need_ to act upon a feeling greater than yourself. Maybe the acting on it makes you seem high to those around you. I now know the feeling well. I grab his hand and squeeze.

"I'm so glad you came that night."

"Yeah, me too." I pull him closer and he leans his head on my shoulder. We sit like that, staring out at the endless ocean, for several minutes before he stirs. "Hey, I gotta get going," he whispers.

"Yeah I know," I reply. "If it's okay with you, I'd like to stay a little longer."

"That's fine. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay." He kisses me one last time before heading down to the parking lot. I look at the horizon line where the ocean and the sky meet, working out the next couple steps in my effort to make my family.


	37. Chapter 37

After about half an hour of meditation, I get up and hike down to my car. I spend the rest of the day working. As I shut my laptop to call it a night, I notice that at some point, June must have brought in the mail that I hadn't been checking regularly. There's a small package addressed to me along with the pile of envelopes and magazines for Mom and Larry. I recognize the scrawl as my brother's. I smile as I grab it, using my fingernail to peel the tape from a corner. I open the box and several condoms fall out, along with a note.

_Bro,  
Knowing you, you're probably writing instead of getting out there and meeting new guys.  
Hopefully this package inspires you to go out and get some action!  
Don't be a loner—cover your boner!  
Miss you,  
your baby brother _

_Oh Gabe!_ He's pretty thoughtful and sweet in his own depraved way. I chuckle at the sentiment and throw the foil packets back into the box. Looks like I won't need to add protection to the list for the grocery store. As I'm heading upstairs, my phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket and grin when the display tells me it's Zach.

"Hey," I answer, plopping down on my bed.

"Hey. Just got off work. How 'bout you?"

"Oh the same. Heading to bed now. Wish you were here."

"Yeah, me too. Hey I have my schedule for the rest of the week." I wait for him to go on, hoping there's time for me and him to spend together as well as a point where I can go to LA while he's working so I'm not wasting an instance I could be spending with him. "I work tomorrow morning and am off in the early afternoon. I told Jeanne I was gonna meet up with some friends in San Diego and would probably end up spending the night. Then the day after I'm off all day but have Cody in the evening. I work a split shift the next day so I'll be busy in the morning and then again that evening, and the day after that I'm off again."

"Okay great," I confirm. "So you'll be here tomorrow and spend the night?"

"If you're down, then yeah. Otherwise, I can…"

"Yes!" I jump in before he can come up with another alternative. "I want you to spend the night!" I hear him sigh and wonder if he seriously doubted I'd want him here. "Any time you can spend the night, I want you to, okay?"

"Okay. I just don't want to like, assume, you know?"

"No worries. So you'll be here till you have to get Codes and are pretty busy the next day?" I verify, deciding I'll go to LA then.

"Yup, and I'm off the next day so if you're free, we can spend it together," he offers.

"I'll be free! Oh, hey I got some mail from Gabe," I divulge.

"Uh, if it's anything like what he sent me, I bet you're happy Cody wasn't around when you opened it." I can hear that he's smiling as he says this.

"You got condoms too?" I ask, shaking my head.

"Yeah. I'll be so glad when this damn year is over. His note encouraged me to forget about Tori and to 'cover my whistle before planting thistle,' whatever the hell that means. He's getting US state facts or pictures of cats or something equally boring as a calendar theme next year." I laugh and groan at the same time. "Cody thought it was candy and got really excited. I had to disappoint him and say it wasn't." My light-hearted laugh turns into a full-bellied chuckle at the thought of Zach trying to explain to his nephew that the bright packages didn't contain a sugary treat.

"That's my brother for you," I sigh as soon as my laughing fit concludes. "So thoughtful, sort of."

"I guess," Zach half-heartedly agrees. "Hey I just got home so I'm gonna let you go. Sleep well, Sweetheart."

"Okay, sleep well. See you tomorrow afternoon!"

I undress and crawl under the covers, running through the next couple steps in my plan. Though it's still pretty early, I'm exhausted and fall asleep within a few minutes.

When I wake up the next morning, I'm ready to get to work on the next part of my strategy, but it's a little early to make phone calls so I decide to work on my writing a bit before that. Without changing from my PJs, I run downstairs and turn on the laptop before grabbing a bowl of cereal. I toss the milk carton out because I've used it all. I'm going to have to go shopping no later than tomorrow at this point. I settle in front of the screen and open my email first. There are a few business-related ones that I quickly send replies to. I also have a couple personal ones.

The first is from Tony, telling me he'd made it back to Seattle. He mentions our night out and reiterates the sentiment about how happy I seem with Zach. I smile, glad that it's obvious to my friend how important he is to me. He then mentions the guy he went home with, who was apparently a dud in the sack. Tony's happy-go-lucky life-view shines through as he explains that because his trick was bad in bed, it prompted him to leave even earlier than he normally would have so he made great time getting back home. I hit "reply" and send off a quick note thanking him for meeting up and telling him I am glad he made it home safe.

The next email is from Larry. I open it, curious about what it's regarding. Basically he was just writing to explain what he told Mom about our phone call, in case she spoke with me before he had a chance. According to Larry, I needed some financial advice about a particular investment. I can imagine my mom's eyes glazing over at that point in his story and give him kudos for coming up with a reason she won't question or even be remotely interested in looking into. My reply to him is grateful and appreciative. As I sign the end, I am grateful that I talked with Larry. Even if my plan doesn't work out the way I'm desperately hoping it will, I'm glad to have begun repairing my relationship with my step-dad.

I finish the rest of the emails and open my book to get to work. A couple hours in, I look at the time and see it's a respectable time to call others, so I grab my phone to call my new future-landlord, Susan. She answers and greets me warmly when I tell her who it is. I ask her if the other three-bedroom apartment in the duplex has been rented out yet. She tells me it hasn't and asks if I've changed my mind. I agree that I have and she tells me it's mine. I tell her I'll be in town in a couple days and would be happy to sign the formal lease then. She accepts and we hang up. _Yes_. I check this step off the list in my head. I am getting closer to the part of my plan I dread the most.

Basically, my course of action is to move the family in with me in LA. The whole family, Jeanne included. That's going to be the worst part and the reason I needed a third bedroom. I know it will be next to impossible to convince her that I mean well and have nothing but the best intentions for her brother and son, and that's where I'm hoping the money will help. She might not like me, but she will sure appreciate the fact that I'll invite her to live rent-free in the city and won't push her to even get a job immediately. I'm hoping the promise of an easy life will at least pacify her enough that she doesn't take Cody away from his uncle. It's obviously a sacrifice on my part as there's no love lost between Zach's sister and myself, but it's worth it if it means I'll have them in my life for keeps.

The part I'm struggling with the most is how to approach the subject with Zach. "Hey I know I promised you time, but I love you and want to be with you forever. Please move in with me and bring your nephew and sister along," doesn't exactly roll off the tongue easily, nor does it make me seem like the most stable individual. I conclude that I can't think like that and go back to work.

I work for a few more hours before choosing to be done for the day. I get up and stretch, deciding to enjoy the pool for a while. I run upstairs and change into some trunks and grab a towel. Swimming expends a lot of the energy I hadn't been using sitting in front of the computer all day. I eventually give up the laps I'd been doing and float on my back. I mentally make a note to get information on the school district I'll live in, something I've never had to consider before. It's weird how much my life will change if this happens, and weirder still, how excited I am about it all.

I hear my phone ring and swim to the side of the pool to grab it.

"Hey Babe," I greet Zach, who must have just gotten off work.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Swimming. You should join me," I encourage.

"I'll be there in half an hour," he agrees.

"See you then," I conclude with a smile, coming to the realization that it's not weird at all how excited I would be about making a permanent life-change for this man. He's worth it.


	38. Chapter 38

Zach shows up in board shorts and a tank top with a familiar-looking box. He shows me and I recognize the handwriting on it.

"Figured I'd bring these here where they'll get some use and Cody won't try opening them," he confesses and I laugh. He sets it on the table along with his shirt, which he quickly removes to jump in the pool, disrupting my floating. He dives under the water and pops up near me with a smile. I grab hold of him and give him a quick kiss. He deepens the kiss and grabs my waist, pulling me closer as he slowly moves us across the pool.

"Hi there," I greet him between kisses.

"Oh, hi," he counters back, pulling me closer. We've neared the deep end of the pool and our heads are just above the water line. His lips approach mine and I lean in to meet them when he grabs my shoulders to duck me under the water. _Brat!_ I grab his hips and squeeze, which I know will make him squirm enough that I can push him under. It works, but while he's submerged, his fingers grasp at the hem of my trunks, pulling them low across my hips before I can grab the waist to keep them on. He jumps up, laughing and is so beautiful and loveable that I grab him and hold him close. His laughing stops and he pulls me tighter into his embrace. I focus on my breathing because the love I feel right now is overwhelming. He senses something's up and just quietly lets me hold him. I get my composure back and release him. "Was I uh, doing weird things to you again?" he whispers. I smile and nod. "Sorry 'bout that."

"You don't ever have to be sorry for it," I shyly smile. "I like it. It's just sometimes…" I'm at a loss for words on how to begin to explain how I feel with him around.

"Too awesome?" he offers. I smile and nod.

"Yes, it's definitely too awesome." He kisses me again and I grab around his hips pulling him up a bit out of the water. He wraps his legs around my waist and my hands are holding his ass up as his tongue enters my mouth. We kiss like that for a few seconds when my playful side overtakes the emotional moment I'd been having. Firmly holding Zach, mid-kiss, I drop us both under the water. Instead of rushing to get back up to air, he prolongs the kiss underwater, grabbing my face firmly to seal the air between us. As hot as this is, I begin to get a bit dizzy and have to return to the surface.

Above water, we're both panting from the lack oxygen, but grinning at each other. He gestures to the steps with his head. "I'm ready to get out if you are," he offers. I nod and we wade over in that direction. He gets out first, and as he takes the second of four steps to get out, I grab his shorts and pull down. He jumps and falls back toward me, twisting mid-fall so that he's pressed up against me with his butt falling out of his precariously hanging trunks. Laughingly, he threatens me. "When you least expect it, I will return the favor."

"I look forward to it," I reply as I kiss him and then smack his bare backside, still careful of the hickey which has turned a puce greenish-yellow.

He pulls the board shorts up and we exit the pool. I grab my towel and use it quickly before offering it to Zach. He dries off and we go inside. I grab his package from Gabe and set it on the counter in the kitchen.

"Have you eaten lunch?" he enquires. I shake my head, and he immediately heads to the kitchen and opens the fridge to evaluate. "We're going shopping tomorrow, dude," he grimaces at what's available. Finding some frozen hamburger patties tucked away in the freezer, he pulls them out. "Wanna grill?"

"Sure," I agree. He gathers the necessary equipment as I grab a couple bottles of beer and we go back outside to the barbeque. The sun continues drying us as the burgers cook. I take over grilling duties as Zach carefully watches while drinking his beer.

"So, what are you doing in 'San Diego' tonight?" I ask as I flip over the beef.

"Uh, hitting up an art show, and maybe a concert," he explains. I smile. At least he's using art as an excuse, which reminds me of CalArts.

"How's your application coming along?" I query, starting to feel like a nag about it.

"It's done."

"That's great! Have you submitted it?" I excitedly ask. "Isn't the due date coming up soon?"

"No, uh, not yet, you know?" he looks away. That can't be good. "It's due the last day of the month."

"That's coming up quick; what's stopping you?"

"Shaun, I need to make enough money to cover bills with less time available to work. I've been looking for a better-paying job. If it doesn't happen _this semester_, CalArts will be there next year."

"You're right," I concede, gulping. "But if the opportunity arose where that wasn't a concern, would you take it?" Zach looks at me like I'm crazy.

"Of course, but even with the scholarships I'd be applying for, that doesn't mean they'd cover my living situation with Jeanne and Codes. Or the gas to drive back and forth every day."

I use this opportunity to introduce him to the idea I've been actively pursuing. "Well, what if you guys moved closer to the city?" I offer.

"Yeah right. Jeanne wouldn't go for that. Her life and friends are here in San Pedro. And my dad's nearby." Zach stubbornly holds those red threads tight, but I can't fault him; it's a quality I find very attractive in him.

"What if you spend the week at CalArts and return on weekends?" I pose. He shakes his head.

"I've usually got Codes a few nights a week. When Jeanne's working late or goes out, you know? Let's face it; it's hopeless." He sighs and it breaks my heart. I refrain from blurting out what I have been working toward even though I want to. I won't say anything specific until it's a sure thing and all lined up, making the resolution to tell him as soon as I get back from LA.

"Oh. Okay," I reply quietly. All the silliness of our pool antics have fled as I turn off the grill. We eat on the patio in relative silence.

"You uh, did a good job on these," he pacifies me, pointing to his burger.

Hoping to lighten the mood, I grin. "Thanks. I told you I'm good at barbeque." We finish our very-late lunch and the quiet between us has gone from more awkward to mellow.

Zach insists on doing the dishes ("You cooked, I clean!"), so while he's working in the kitchen, I grab the condoms and head upstairs, dumping them with mine. The sun's beginning to set and the balcony calls to me. I lean against the wall, and look at the ocean. What if Zach doesn't _want_ to uproot his life? Is my desire to get him to LA really for his benefit or because it makes _my_ life easier? Obviously CalArts would be an amazing experience, but it's not like it's the _only_ art school he could go to. Should I re-think my plan? I want to involve Zach and get his input but the damn promise I made to give him time prevents me from an all-out declaration of love. Obviously if things progress much more, I'll need to say something but I'm scared to disrupt the perfect slice of summer we've shared.

I hear him come outside and turn to face him, grabbing his hand in mine. Without words, we kiss, and there's an almost-desperate quality to our lip-lock. He cradles the back of my head and pulls me closer as I open my mouth to him. Instead of a lazy exploration I'm used to from his kisses, this is more probing and intense. After a few more seconds, he pulls back, shuddering. I grab his upper arms and rub them, stroking up and down.

"You okay?" I break the silence.

"Yeah. Yeah," is the only thing he can come up with. I can tell something is on his mind and I wonder if our conversation has shaken him up a bit too. It's a relief to know that I'm not the only one of us who is feeling emotions and thoughts on a nearly-physical level. I realize that even if it means living in a shack on the beach with him, I can't not have this man as an integral part of my life. The intensity of my feelings for him scares me, and when I think of past lovers I lived with, moved in with so cavalierly, it makes making this happen so much a more important and sweeter goal.

I drop my hands from his arms and he grasps my fingers with his and gives me a half-smile. "So, what now?" I ask, unsure of whether I even mean immediately or in the future.

"Wanna conserve some water and get your back scrubbed in the process?" he replies, his half-grin widening into the real thing.

"Of course!" He leads me into the bathroom and we drop our trunks on the floor. We step inside the shower and he grabs the sponge and shower gel, turning me around to clean my back as promised. He plants a kiss on my shoulder blade while he does it. He presents his back to me when he finishes and I caress him with the sponge. Looking at the hickey on his butt cheek, I gently poke it. "Does it hurt?" I ask, beginning to feel remorse for such a deep bruise that was meant in jest.

He turns around to face me. "No, I uh, like it. It's like you're there even when you're not. Sometimes I back into something and feel it and remember you, or I'll see it in the mirror after a shower. Does that sound totally girly and weird?"

I shake my head and smile. "No. I love that you think of me when I'm not around." I inhale, wondering if he picked up on my word choice the way I did his when he appreciated my scruff. His face breaks out in a smile and I exhale, then grab him for a kiss.

We continue the shower in a more playful mood than on the balcony. As we're getting ready to step out of the shower, he turns to me and blushes.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"Can I uh, I mean, I was thinking I might wanna try, uh, bottoming tonight, maybe."

"Oh," I reply, surprised at this revelation. I usually prefer to bottom but am not averse to topping and I want him to experience and enjoy every aspect of gay sex. "Well then, let's do it."


	39. Chapter 39

"**Live in my house, I'll be your shelter, Just pay me back with one thousand kisses, Be my lover and I'll cover you…"**

** "I'll Cover You" from **_**Rent**_** Jonathan Larson, American Composer & Playwright**

"Are you sure? I mean, you said you're not really into it, so I don't wanna…" he trails off.

"Yes I'm sure!" I exclaim. "It's a preference silly, not a requirement. You might decide you like it so much that we'll have to take turns. Or maybe you'll hate it." He gulps at this possibility.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not really, and when it does it's usually a good kind of pain that goes away quickly," I assure him. "You had fun when I used my fingers?" He nods. "Think of it like that but better."

"Okay," he nods his head as we leave the bathroom. I shut off the light as we enter the bedroom and move toward the bed. "How should I, uh…" he looks awkwardly at the bed and gestures, "…get in?" I smile.

"Well, how would you like? There are lots of different ways…"

Zach cuts in. "I wanna see your face. So like our first time?" he asks.

"Like our first time," I agree with a kiss. "And like that first time, let's play around and have fun with that end goal in mind, okay?" I include, to calm his nerves.

"Okay," he grins before plopping into the bed. I chuckle as I join him. He pulls me to him and we begin to kiss. Our mouths have lost the desperate need to connect that they shared on the balcony so these kisses are more lazy and playful. Zach's fingers begin to wander down my chest as if they have an artistic mind of their own, dancing over my torso leaving an invisible tagging across my chest. I pull him closer and recline back, using my hands to stroke his cheeks then neck and back.

His fingers splayed across my shoulders, he gently pushes me back so I'm lying fully on the bed as he kisses my nose and works his way across my jaw, nuzzling here and there before applying his mouth. He heads lower down my neck, licking my Adam's apple and kissing the dip below it before returning to my face.

I place my hands around his cheeks, cradling his face, and take control of the kiss as I direct him to lie back onto the pillows. I begin kissing across his face from ear to ear, softly rubbing my stubble along his skin as he shivers. I travel down his neck and along his clavicle as my hands begin stroking his hips. My mouth goes lower traveling down the dip between his pecs and along the middle of his abs. As I get closer to his sensitive midsection, my hands begin rubbing firmer and he begins gently bucking from the stimulation as he becomes more aroused.

My eyes return to his and I can tell he's almost ready. I grab the lube and a condom and return to Zach, positioning myself between his legs. I hover over his stomach and kiss it, which makes him jump. I smile at how easy it is to turn him on and look up at his beautiful eyes, which are looking at me with intense need. I grab his thighs and pull his knees up, running my fingers down them, using my nails slightly. Then I grab his ankles and direct them upward. He catches on and settles them on my shoulders.

"Ready?" I softly enquire. He nods his head as he bites his lip. I sheath myself and pour a generous amount of lube on his anus. The cool of the gel makes his butt clench, so I use my fingers to massage the area as he relaxes. My index approaches his hole and I swirl my finger over it before gently pressing in. He moans as it enters. I thrust in gently and he accepts more of my finger. I pull my hand away and position my cock to enter him, looking at his face as I begin the process.

I use my hand to make room between his cheeks and rub my member between them, allowing the lube to fully cover myself and him. Gently I press myself against his puckered hole. He takes a breath as I begin to enter him, slowly, giving him time to adjust to this intrusion much bigger than my finger. After a few moments, I push deeper but am careful not to thrust. He is so tight. His breathing continues and I pause to give him time. He smiles and nods, so I continue penetrating slowly until I'm hovered over the backs of his legs, fully inside of him.

"How does it feel?" I whisper, anxious that he's enjoying the experience.

"Uh, like you said. A little uncomfortable at first, but it got better," he confesses with a shy grin. I smile back and pull out of him slightly then gently thrust back in. He moans a bit but enjoys the sensation. I pull out again, this time a bit more, and slowly return. His hips begin to recognize the thrusting motion and participate as well from their position. I build momentum and begin thrusting faster as his body's adjusted to the feel and movement of me inside him. His sphincter is so tight I'm not sure how much longer I can go without coming but I'm intent to make this about him. He begins stroking himself and that assures me he's nearing the same point I am so I push in faster and harder. He groans as I press myself into him. His eyes are glazed over, but when he sees me looking at him, he stops what he's doing and pulls me in for a quick kiss. As he releases my face I thrust harder and he whimpers. I keep up the speed and intensity as he returns to pumping his dick. After a few more thrusts he groans out my name as he climaxes. I thrust again and he pulls me back down for another kiss as I'm about to come. After the kiss he doesn't release me but pulls me closer, kissing my shoulder and burying his face in my neck. One final push and I reach orgasm, collapsing against his legs for a few moments.

I carefully pull out of him and discard the condom, grabbing a towel for him as I pull myself up to lie next to him. Zach uses the towel and tosses it on the floor, snuggling against my chest as he puts his head on my shoulder. He must be spent because his fingers haven't begun doodling. Instead they're clenched in a fist settled above my heart.

"Well?" I quietly ask, curious about how it was for him.

"Uh, too awesome," he explains with a tiny grin and a yawn. I rub his back as he falls asleep against me, eventually falling asleep myself.

I wake up a while later to an active hand writing gibberish across my stomach and a man quietly giggling into my armpit. Convinced that this is the best way to wake up, I'm hesitant to break into his silly moment, but curious as to what's so funny. Zach notices I am alert and smiles, chuckling even harder.

"Wanna let me in on the joke?" I ask with a languid grin. "I'm hoping this isn't about my, uh, performance." This statement sends him into peals of laughter.

When he calms down, he explains. "No! Your performance was absolutely aces, Sweetheart. Aces. I was uh, just thinking about Gabe."

"Eww. Way to ruin my post-coital bliss by bringing up my brother." This sends him into hysterics again. He gulps air, trying to regain composure.

"The condom!" he squeaks out between breaths. "You used one he sent!" I nod, unsure of where he's going with this. "I just don't think he had this in mind when he sent those care packages to us," he explains. I begin to understand why he's giggling. "And then I was thinking of when you were, uh, rimming me, you know, while I was on the phone with him and how he keeps wanting us to meet up while you're here and we both keep putting it off. Man, he's gonna freak when he finds out."

"And that's a good thing?"

"He's your brother, my best friend, and the biggest practical joker I know. Even those condoms were a joke to him and I doubt he thought either of us would ever use them, let alone with each other. I've never been able to pull one over on him before, and now I have the best, un-toppable response to any prank he's ever or will ever pull. All I have to say is 'I fucked your big brother.'" I shake my head at his logic but understand what he means. "Short of getting with your mom, this is the ultimate payback!" he jokes and I cringe at the idea of that, which makes himA laugh harder. _This is what I get for being with a 22 year old_, I think as I roll my eyes, but smile slightly.

"Well, I'm glad I could help you one-up my kid brother," I yawn, giving him a kiss on the nose. Actually, I'm more grateful that the idea of telling Gabe isn't totally freaking him out. His laughter settles down and he cuddles closer.

"It's just an added bonus, Shaun. I'm enjoying us way beyond how it will bug Gabe."

"I'm enjoying us too, Babe," I assure him with a smile. I kiss his forehead and we settle into sleep.


	40. Chapter 40

I wake up in the late morning with Zach still cuddled at my side. He looks peaceful and stress-free in slumber. "I love you," I whisper oh-so-quietly. His eyelashes flutter but he just snuggles in closer, passed out to the world. I smile with satisfaction; I must have worn him out. I use the time to imagine a future where this is a daily occurrence, one where Gabe is well-aware it's happening. Using my fingers, I gently draw hearts on his shoulder. After a few minutes of this, his eyes peek open.

"Uh, mornin,'" he greets me, squinting.

"How are you feeling?" I smile as he blinks, his eyes adjusting to the light.

"Mmm…" he stretches and moves around a bit, doing a physical inventory. "…I'm a little sore, but like you said, it's a good kind," he assures me adjusting himself so he can see me better. His face registers a surprised look, and I'm wary.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Looks like I marked you in the, uh, heat of the moment," he explains, fingering a new sensitive spot near my collar bone. "I didn't even realize I'd done this. Sorry." I twist my head to see it; it's a dark new bruise, but it's coverable.

"No worries, dude," I smile. "I won't wear tank tops for a few days. It's all good." He looks unsure. "I told you hickeys are okay, Zach. I meant it. I _love_ that you were so turned on you didn't even realized you were branding me Babe," I attempt to convince him. "You were also releasing some Level 13 Sex Moans," I grin as he chuckles. "Record-breaking ones. So how did you feel about being the bottom?"

He begins to doodle on me as he explains so I settle in for a longer-than-normal-for-Zach chat that I've grown used to during our private time in bed. "It uh, it was good. I definitely see why you say you like having me 'inside' you. It's intense—that feeling of having someone you, uh, _care about_ as much a part of you as physically possible." I gulp. It's not an admission of love, but I'll take it. "I dunno if I like it better than, uh, penetrating, but I'm not averse to doing it again-when I'm not as sore," he finishes.

"That works for me."

"Is that how girls feel every time?" he wonders aloud. "Like I wonder, if, uh, never mind," he tries to brush aside his train of thought, and I know where he's going, so I encourage it.

"You wonder if Tori felt the same way?" I ask.

"Uh, yeah. I guess."

"You can talk about her Zach. It doesn't freak me out. If I had issues with your past, I wouldn't have pursued this future," I explain pointing from myself to him and back. "I wanted _you_, and your past with Tori and any other random hookups is a part of you. To answer your question: yes, I imagine for girls, when it's someone they, uh, _care about_, if we're going to use that euphemism…" I hold my breath to see how he reacts to me essentially saying 'love.' He blinks a few times and his cheeks turn pink, but he nods, anticipating how I will finish. "…that they feel similarly to how you explained it. I know for me, when it's random sex, that the, uh, intimacy is missing and I'm just physically looking to get off, but when it's someone I, uh, _care about_…" now he gulps. "…like you…" his gulp turns into an almost imperceptible smile, or is that me hoping? "…that I view it the same way. I want to be as close as possible to him. To you. Because I care about you."

"I care about you too," he replies, barely above a whisper. I can't help but kiss him. We make out for several minutes before he pulls away. "Uh, not that I don't absolutely love kissing you all morning, but, what _time_ is it?" he asks, looking outside to see the sun near its zenith.

"Uh, after 11. Almost noon," I answer, after checking the clock.

"Oh. Why did you let me sleep so long?" he enquires.

"Clearly you needed it," I reply, then get sassy. "Level 13 moans remember? And you tease me for being old…" I shake my head, smiling. "I didn't realize I was your alarm clock, or your mom. Did you do your chores?" I joke. He laughs.

"You had to bring my mom into this?" he grimaces.

"Uh, _you're_ the one who mentioned 'getting with' mine last night, bro. Turnabout is fair play." I teasingly poke him.

"Oh yeah," he remembers, smiling. "Gabe. The ultimate revenge." I see an almost diabolical smile on his face. He rolls over me and grabs his jeans off the floor, pulling his phone out of it. "Evidence," he explains as he swings a leg over me so he's straddling my stomach. He flips it open and turns on the camera function. Good grief. Before I can do anything he takes a photo of shirtless me in bed. He shows me a bewildered photo of myself, before dismounting me to return to where he started cuddled in my arm. Holding the phone as far away as possible, he instructs me, "Say cheese," and I grin at what a goof he's being. Upon looking at the photo of us together, our first, he smiles wide and shows me. It's actually really good, in a grainy, phone-camera kind of way. His head is turned into my jaw and we both look happy and content.

"Hey, send that to me, okay?" I ask, wanting it for myself, and not as proof to freak my brother out. He nods his head and sends it. Then I see him saving it as his contact photo for me and I smile. "Are you really gonna use that to show Gabe?" I ask, torn between wanting to keep that beautiful moment private between us and wanting Gabe to be aware that we're together. His silly demeanor has been replaced mercurially quickly.

"Nah. I was just playing. That pic is just for me, uh, us," he corrects himself as he hears my phone ping after receiving the message. I smile and pull him closer. "I wanna tell Gabe, but I just need to come up with the right way to do it," he explains. I nod my head, realizing it's very similar to how I need to come up with the right way to talk to him about the future.

"We have time, Babe," I encourage him. "Now about this day, what should we do? I for one, need to eat. Soon."

"Good luck doing that here Sweetheart, Old Mother Hubbard's got more food," he jests. I shake my head.

"What time do you get Codes? How about we go grab lunch and then go grocery shopping," I offer.

"Uh, originally it was gonna be closer to five, but I might have to get him earlier," he warns, his eyes clouding over.

"No worries," I exclaim, "How about we grab lunch, the kid, and then go to the store?" I suggest.

"That could work," he admits, and I smile, excited about getting to see Cody. I grab my phone and set the picture as Zach's caller ID photo while he looks on approvingly. He kisses me and smiles but nestles back in my arm rather than getting up.

"Uh, are we getting up for lunch?" I ask, a bit confused. "I'll even let you pay for yourself," I offer.

"Yeah, I just really don't wanna leave this bed," he sighs.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," I add, running through all the amazing times I've shared with Zach here. "I think I'm gonna actually take it with me when I head back to LA."

"Oh," he replies. "Do you have a time frame on that yet?"

"My place will be ready in a bit, but I'm in no rush or anything," I explain.

"And you don't even have a bed to move in with?" he asks, incredulous.

"Babe, I arrived here with three bags of stuff and that's it. I've got next to nothing," I tell him. His eyes show surprise and concern. I don't want him to worry that I'm destitute so I continue. "I'm actually gonna head up to my old place tomorrow while you're working and pick up a bunch of my stuff I'd left there," I explain. His eyes go wider.

"Are you uh, gonna see him? Your ex?" Zach asks cautiously. I wonder how he feels about the possibility, but don't want to upset him, so I go for honesty.

"I actually don't know. I told him I'd be by at some point during the week, and that I'd rather not see him. He might respect my wishes or he may have set up camp there this week waiting for me." I caress his cheek and direct his eyes to mine. "Hey, are you okay with this?" I ask.

"Yeah, I mean, that asshole totally screwed you over. I can, uh, call into work if you want me to come with you," he offers looking away. I inhale, so completely touched he'd even offer.

"As much as I'd love for you to join me, this is something I need to do on my own," I quietly explain. He looks at me, with pink cheeks and I love him so much right now it makes my stomach twist. He nods.

"Okay, but I'll keep my phone on me during my shifts and between. If you, uh, need me or anything," he offers.

"Thanks Babe. I may call you if it gets rough," I smile, kissing his nose. He looks so solemn that I just want to make him smile. "Okay, regardless of how it turns out, I'll call you," I accede.

"I just worry about you," he explains, gesturing with his hands. He must feel pretty strongly about this because he's normally not one to wave his hands about while talking. "Like, if he can do that, with your best friend, who knows what other shit he's capable of?" Protective Zach is so hot.

"I understand," I whisper, giving him another kiss. "And it's a total turn on that you want to help me or protect me or whateve…"

"I _want_ to punch that asshole in the face," he interjects. Having not seen physically aggressive Zach since he was a small boy, I'm surprised by his reaction.

Then it hits me: show, not tell. Zach only has ever gotten physical about people he cared about. His family and those closest to him: the people he loves most. The people he _loves_. He hasn't said it, but he's showing it. The writer in me was getting caught up in the words, but the storyteller in me gently reminds myself that the actions and intentions are just as, if not more, important. I inhale at this revelation. _Zach loves me._ He might not know it, or certainly not want to tell me, but he's showing me, right now. Has been showing me for a while now.

I think back. _Wanting_ to go to a gay bar, his eagerness to try things out sexually, the various ways he's branded me and accepted my branding of him. Even the way we talk together when it's just us is so out-of-character for him that I just assumed it was his pillow talk, but when he's opened up about Tori, he never mentioned any long-winded conversations, so I assume he's only been like that for me. I am reeling from this epiphany. Meanwhile, poor Zach is looking at me reeling and assumes it's because of what he said.

"I mean, I would never, ever punch him, Sweetheart, I just don't even like the idea of him hurting you," he tries to explain. God I didn't think I could love him more but I feel like my heart's just expanded with this knowledge. I grab his face and kiss this beautiful gorgeous love of my life, knowing I need to reassure him.

"Oh, I know Babe," I softly say keeping his face near mine, nose to nose. "But, if it hadn't happened, I wouldn't be here with you now. And this right now is a million times better than anything with Rich was. So I can only be grateful," I finish with a small smile. This confession seems to calm him down. The tension in his body that had come when I'd mentioned heading to LA dissipates.

"I guess," he reluctantly agrees. "Let's go grab lunch and get Codes."

"That sounds perfect," I enthuse.


	41. Chapter 41

We grudgingly get out of bed and put some clothes on. Zach grabs his backpack and pulls out an old pair of jeans that are worn out with holes in the knees along with a red shirt. He pads into my closet and grabs a pair of my boxers he seems to be partial to and an old blue hoodie.

"What do you wanna eat?" I ask as I pull a shirt over my head. The neck is wide on this particular sweater and Zach's love bite is visible, so I pull it off and opt for a different one. He shrugs his shoulders in apology and I shake my head with a smile, non-verbally attempting to let him know it doesn't matter.

"Uh, somewhere that serves breakfast?" he suggests. "I'm still in a morning-mindset even though it's lunchtime," he explains with a grin as he's tying his shoe. I laugh.

"That works. There's a place down the way that serves breakfast all day," I offer, slipping into some flip flops. "We can take my car then we can come back here for you to go get the Half-Pint."

"Cool," Zach agrees as he zips the hoodie and we're ready to go. We amble downstairs and Zach does a quick inventory of the kitchen while I hunt for my keys. I find them and we head to the garage and get in my car.

"Coconut sex wax!" he exclaims, smiling. I pull the air freshener I'd purchased while ordering Cody's surf gear out and show him.

"I've realized I'm, uh, partial to the smell," I explain with a grin.

"Me too," he quietly agrees with a shy smile. I vow to pick up an additional one for his car when I get the chance.

I drive us to The Potholder Caf_é_, where breakfast is served all day long. We enter and are seated promptly. Zach orders something called "The Couch" which consists of eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, and pancakes, and I order some pancakes and bacon. I inwardly smirk at how hungry he is, marveling at his capacity to eat that much before remembering he's got the metabolism of a 22 year old and he'd expended a lot of energy last night. The food arrives and he digs in. I begin eating and bring up the difference between these cakes and the ones from his restaurant.

"These are alright, but I prefer the ones at Pacific Diner," I admit. Zach looks at me questioningly, so I elaborate. "The heart-shaped ones just taste better," I argue. He blushes as he shakes his head and continues to eat. I steal a forkful of potatoes off his plate. We finish the meal and I make a big deal about having us pay separately. He laughs as the waitress collects our bills. After we arrive back at the beach house, I'm sad he's leaving but anxious to see Cody.

Before he gets in his Jimmy, I grab Zach around the waist and kiss him. He seems surprised but gets into it. After a few minutes I pull away.

"See you soon, Babe," I give my farewell.

"Shaun, I'll be right back," he assures me, smiling. I kiss him one more time. "I'll be right back."

"Okay, go. Go and get the kid now, before I keep you here and have my way with you and we starve to death," I joke, squeezing his side. He shakes his head at me as he climbs in his car. He pulls out of the drive and I wave goodbye, wondering what to do for the hour before he returns. It's too short a time to get any work done, so I decide to make a quick trek to the surf shop and get him his own air freshener. While I'm there, I find a kid-sized snorkel set that would be perfect for Cody, so I add it to my purchase. As I return home, Zach's car is already back. I leave the bag of items in my car and go indoors. They're already inside and are seated at the kitchen table coloring. Zach looks up as I enter.

"I uh, used the key in the planter," he explains. "Hope that's okay."

"It's fine," I assure him. "Mi casa es su casa," I continue, hoping one day soon that it's completely true. Cody looks up from coloring.

"Shaun!" he exclaims and a smile breaks out across my face at his enthusiastic greeting.

"Ankle-Biter!" I hail back just as enthusiastically. He jumps up and runs into me grabbing my legs in a hug. I rub the top of his head, messing up his hair. I look at Zach, who's got a rather satisfied look on his face. "You guys made really good time," I offer, surprised he'd made it home and back so quickly.

"I tried to hurry," he explains. "You seemed really reluctant for me to go, so I was as fast as possible." He holds up the paper he'd been focused on. Rather than a drawing, I see he's made a shopping list. "Ready?"

"Let's go!" We head back out to Zach's car, and he buckles Cody in.

We get to the grocery store and I grab a cart. Cody is excited and begins the expedition standing on the opposite end of the cart holding on to the edge as I push. His giggles are contagious and I find myself laughing at his enthusiasm. Zach, list in hand, directs us through the aisles. Cody tires of holding on and jumps off in the cereal section. He's eyeing a box of Trix so I grab it and throw it in the cart with a wink. Zach notices and rolls his eyes. In another section, we see Batman fruit snacks. Cody's eyes are so wide seeing his favorite character on the box so I add it to our groceries. He takes off to a display down the aisle and Zach uses the opportunity to talk.

"Dude, you don't have to get him whatever he points out," he explains. I smile.

"I know. But I _want_ to," I offer. "He's so cute and gets so excited. I can't help myself!"

"You're going to spoil him rotten," he grumbles, but it's a half-hearted complaint. Cody returns with a small package of donuts.

"Look Shaun!" he exclaims, and I realize this kid's got my number already. I go to throw it in the cart but Uncle Zach intercedes.

"Codes, pick: fruit snacks or donuts."

"How 'bout both?" Cody innocently replies with wide eyes. I begin laughing and even Zach can't keep a straight face. The boy takes off, donuts in hand, past the aisle cap and around the corner. Zach follows him and I hear giggling in the next aisle. They return a few moments later, Cody in Zach's arms, minus the pack of sweets.

"They went missing in the frozen food area," is all Zach will say. I chuckle. "Come on Buddy, we gotta get fruits and veggies," he exclaims after consulting the shopping list.

They take off for the produce area as I leisurely push the cart down a couple more aisles, reveling in the moment and enjoying the best time I've ever spent grocery shopping. I can hear Cody's laughter as I continue toward them. Cody returns with potatoes then takes off once more. Shortly after, Zach arrives with Cody in his arms again, this time they've got oranges. We get a few more items before Zach deems the list completed. We head to the check out and I see another display of donuts nearby. I grab the ones Cody had shown us and throw it in the cart.

"Rotten," Zach warns looking upward as if asking the heavens to save him from pushovers who can't say 'no' to children. I stick my tongue out as he rolls his eyes.

"Master seems to remember buying Student the same donuts when he was young," I explain with a sassy grin.

"Ah, but Student didn't also have sugary cereal and fruit snacks and God-knows-what-else you and Grasshopper snuck in when I wasn't looking," he rejoins. I begin laughing, wondering if he noticed the pack of gum or comic book I'd hidden under a box of pasta. Cody is pretending to compare different magazine covers but peeks up at me to see if I'm in trouble. I wink at him and he attempts to wink back, making a squinty face that Zach sees.

We begin loading the items on the conveyer belt and Zach doesn't say a word as he sets the gum down next to a bag of rice. I grab the comic book and throw it on top of some muffins I'd chosen.

"Just a little light reading," I offer as explanation. Zach can't help but smile.

"Why do I feel like the only adult here right now?" he asks. Cody's nestled his hand into mine at this point and my heart swells.

"'Cause Shaun and I like fun cereal like Trix and you like old-people stuff like oatmeal," the child enlightens us. I try not to laugh too hard and Zach does a better job of taking his explanation seriously.

"I guess you're right Buddy," is all he can get out without hysterically erupting. The cashier finishes ringing us up and I pay the bill.

"I'd offer to cover Cody's uh, special requests, but since you two are gonna be eating the Trix together, I won't worry about it," he jokes with a sly grin as we load up his vehicle with bags. The idea of eating the fruity sugary cereal holds no appeal and I wonder if this is my 'punishment' for spoiling Codes. If it is, I'll take it.

"That's fine," I reply as he loads his nephew into the car. "Have fun with your oatmeal, old man!" He closes the door with a mischievous look on his face.

"If I'm the adult, I guess that means I get to pick your punishment for being bad in the store," he responds. I swallow, excitedly wondering what he's got in mind.

"I can't wait."


	42. Chapter 42

We pull out of the parking lot and I grab the gum I'd bought and open the package, unwrapping a piece and popping it into my mouth. It's the pink bubble gum kind and I offer a piece to Zach, who hesitantly takes it as I gesture to Cody asking permission to give him some. Zach nods and I hand a piece back to the boy, who opens his and stuffs it in his mouth before his uncle can change his mind. I turn so my back is facing the door and I can look at Cody, blowing a huge bubble that impresses him, if his dropped jaw is any indication.

"Wow Shaun, that's the biggest bubble ever!" he exclaims, trying to blow his own with no success.

"Well, Ankle-Biter, your Uncle Zach is a pretty good bubble-blower too, you know," I reply. "But it's only 'cause I taught him how." Zach rolls his eyes. "He probably couldn't make a really big one now since he's old and likes oatmeal," I joke, which makes Cody laugh.

"Oh, it's on," Zach mumbles, beginning to vigorously chew his gum to make it more pliant. I begin to show Codes how to start making the bubble shape using your tongue, but he's too enthralled with the bubble I blow that he's not really paying attention to what I'm showing him. Zach blows an impressive one himself and Cody begins squealing.

"Let's see who blows the biggest!" he challenges us as we pull into the gated community. We both nod and Zach pulls into the driveway and parks.

"Okay, Buddy…" he explains to his nephew as I hand him a second piece to make this even more competitive, "…your job is to tell us whose is the biggest bubble. The winner gets to pick what we all have for breakfast next time we visit Shaun in the morning." The idea of making Zach stomach the same Trix he'd insisted I'd be eating is too good to let him prevail, so I begin chewing the additional piece into my gum with the intention of winning, confident that the fact that Cody doesn't want oatmeal will help me as well. Zach turns to face me and nods that he's ready.

"One, two, three, BLOW!" Cody shouts and we begin. I blow a large gust of air into mine, while Zach uses smaller puffs to blow out his bubble. I continue blowing and mine is almost as big as my face, so it's hard for me to gauge the size of Zach's bubble. I turn to face Cody and can see that Zach's bubble is comparably sized to mine. I turn back facing him to give Cody the better view of mine. The bubbles get so big they meet in the middle and magnetically meet up, making both go limp as Cody laughs hysterically. I see Zach's eyes over our joined gum string between our mouths and immediately think of the spaghetti scene in Lady And The Tramp.

Zach starts chuckling as well as I start sucking as much of the gum into my mouth as possible. He sees what I'm trying to do and pulls back, making the string even longer between us. Cody claps as I pull back as well, making the gum droop lower between us as it's been stretched even more. I smile as Zach begins inhaling the gum and begin to do the same until we're about six inches away from each other. At this point, the gum snaps between us and we look to Cody to see who won while chewing up the gum back into our mouths. Cody looks back and forth between the two of us then shakes his head before announcing who the winner is.

"Uncle Zach's was just a li'l bit bigger before your bubbles bumped," he confesses. Zach hoots and punches the air, excited to be declared the winner. I sigh, resolving to be a gracious loser.

"Well Codes, I guess that means we're having breakfast for dinner!" Zach exclaims, and I light up, excited they'll be extending their stay beyond grocery shopping . We get out of the car and I unlock the beach house as Zach and Cody help me unload the groceries. While Zach and I put them away, Cody grabs the crayons he was using earlier and takes off for his Bat-Cave.

"You're really into breakfast today," I comment, as Zach sets the oatmeal aside.

"Don't worry, Master. I make a mean batch of oatmeal—it's a brain food, you know," he assures me. I smile, grateful we won't be eating Trix.

"Oh, Master has no doubt," I return, giving him a kiss. He inhales all the gum from my mouth. With a total of four pieces he's now chewing, and the grin on his face, he looks silly and young and so loveable. I shake my head at his silliness as he pulls out half of what was in his mouth and offers it to me. I pop it back into my mouth and finish putting the last of the groceries away, setting the comic book on the table.

"Now, get outta here while I make my secret oatmeal recipe," he shoos me out of the kitchen. I look at him and grimace, wondering what mysterious ingredients he's got planned for oatmeal and how he thinks my knowing will be a threat to it. I grab the comic and head upstairs to check on Cody. He's lying on his stomach on the bed, furiously coloring and looks up at me with a grin when I enter "his" lair. He shows me his drawing of two stick people with big pink blobs in front of their faces, which I assume is a depiction of our bubble contest.

"Good job, Buddy," I encourage, plopping down next to the boy. "But, I think you need to give me bigger muscles since you didn't let me win," I joke, showing the comic hero's muscles as an example while the child giggles.

"Sorry Shaun!" he apologizes.

"No worries, Half-Pint," I assure him. "But you know your Uncle Zach is gonna make us eat the yucky oatmeal," I warn with wide eyes and a smile. I wiggle my eyebrows and gently knock on his head. "He assures me it's a brain food, though, so at least we'll get smart," I finish, messing his hair up as I rub his crown. Cody adds some lumps to "my" arms in the drawing, then includes himself, with a gigantic head in the picture. I point to it, confused.

"It's my big brain from eating oatmeal," he explains. I laugh and lightly knock on that Cody's brain. He finishes his coloring and shoves it aside, grabbing the comic. "Will you read to me?" he asks and my heart melts. I pull the boy into my lap and open the book, beginning to read what characters are saying in each frame. We're so engrossed in the plot that I don't realize Zach's standing in the door frame until he clears his throat.

"Breakfast is served, fellas."

I set the comic down and we trudge downstairs. Instead of bowls of boring oatmeal, Zach had incorporated the oatmeal into pancakes! Cody's are Mickeys again, but this time, his eyes and other features consist of the colorful Trix, somehow baked in. Of the other two plates, only one has Trix, so I assume that's mine. I go to sit and see that I got hearts again. The Trix in mine are shaped to spell "Z + S" over the three hearts on my plate. My stomach drops and my eyes go glassy as what a sweet man Zach is.

"Hopefully, these taste better than the ones you had at lunch," he offers. "They're 'sweet hearts.'" I try to swallow but my throat is dry and I'm afraid I'll cry at this sweet sweet gesture in front of Cody and be unable to explain myself. "Consider yourself punished for the grocery store," he finishes while helping Cody pour syrup on his cakes.

"Thanks Babe," I mumble. It's the best I can do. I sit down and work to regain my composure. I've got it so bad if I'm tearing up over pancakes. He sits down at his plate next to me and sets his gum on a spoon. I pull mine out of my mouth and add it to his, wanting to connect with him in some small way for his beautiful gesture.

We dig into the pancakes and Cody doesn't even seem to notice the oatmeal that's been mixed into the batter. I look over at Zach's plate and give him questioning look at the shape of his flapjacks. "Surfboards," he explains with a grin. I nod.

We finish breakfast-for-dinner and Cody gathers the plates and utensils for us to wash. He brings me the gum spoon and I pop the whole thing in my mouth when he goes back for more dishes. I smooth out and flatten the gum with my tongue and just hold it in my mouth. We clean up all the plates and other stuff while Zach watches with a small satisfied smile. I blow a little bubble and his smile widens, realizing where the gum ended up.

They gather Cody's drawings from earlier and get ready to go, when the boy remembers his papers and the comic upstairs. He takes off to grab them. Zach approaches me and I grab him in a hug. He kisses me and takes the gum, pulling away as Codes runs back downstairs. He pulls the gum from his mouth and sculpts it into a heart, setting it on my mom's ring holder next to the sink.

Cody gives me a hug goodbye and they get ready to go.

"I'll have my phone on me if you need anything, okay?" Zach reminds me.

"I'll keep you posted, regardless. I promise Babe." He nods and we're both miserable that they have to leave. "Late," I offer with a half-hearted attempt at a grin.

"Late-er," he replies as they head to his car. I sigh as they back up and head home, already missing this family I would choose for myself.


	43. Chapter 43

I close and lock the door, then go about shutting off all the lights in the kitchen before climbing the stairs to my room. I undress and get into bed, for the first time actually thinking about my trip to LA in the morning. I really hope Rich doesn't have anything planned, but he was so adamant about seeing me that I wouldn't be surprised if I end up having to meet up with him. I shudder at the thought but resolve to be as mature about the situation as possible as I turn over and try to fall asleep. Slumber eludes me and I toss and turn a few times, attempting to get comfortable and desperately missing my occasional human-pillow. After several minutes, the silence is disturbed by the buzz of the walkie-talkie, which sounds like it's coming from under the bed.

"Cody to Shaun, Cody to Shaun! Come in Shaun!" the boy's voice calls out as my hand finds the radio amid clothes and shoes under my bed.

"Hey there, Ankle-Biter!" I greet him with a smile.

"I just wanted to tell you to sleep well!" he explains with a loud yawn.

"You sleep well too, Buddy," I reply back, charmed.

"G'night Shaun. I love you!" Cody adds and my heart swells.

"I…" I swallow, then take a breath, "…I love you too Codes," I admit, looking at the dark ceiling above me. I can hear Cody adjusting the walkie-talkie as he talks to his uncle and hands over the radio.

"Now you say it," he encourages Zach. I inhale at the same time I hear Zach take a deep breath.

"Good night Shaun. Sleep well…" Zach trails off, and I realize that fortune favors the bold so I decide to embrace Cody's heart-felt declaration.

"Sleep well Zach. I, uh, I love you."

"Oh," he pauses, clearly a bit shocked at my exclamation. "I uh, I love you too," he bashfully replies. _YES!_ "I'll uh, talk to you tomorrow," he finishes and I'm pretty sure I can hear his smile over the airwaves. I set the radio down on the floor and wrap my arms around myself in a hug. _He said he loves me!_ Suddenly dealing with anything Rich-related seems uncomplicated. I fall asleep easily and with a smile.

I wake up the next morning still grinning. I jump out of bed and get dressed, dedicated to getting through the day's events with as little drama as possible. I bound downstairs and make myself some scrambled eggs while I hum to myself, ready to take on the day. As I'm eating, my phone rings. The man who recently admitted he loves me is calling, so of course I answer.

"Hey Babe," I answer with the smile I've been sporting for hours.

"Uh, hey. I um, just wanted to check in with you while I'm on my break," Zach replies.

"Oh, I'm getting ready to head out pretty soon," I inform him.

"Ahh, okay," he begins before pausing. "Hey, I uh, just wanted to also apologize for anything that uh, Codes maybe pressured you into saying." I imagine Zach blushing heavily as he says this.

"Babe, I'm a grown man," I explain, patiently, "and if I say something, it's because I meant it. Not because I felt pressure to respond in a certain way by a five year old," I confirm as he inhales.

"Oh."

"So…" I begin, wondering if this changes things for him, but glad I'm stepping up to take what I want.

"Well, uh…" The part of me who loves Zach beyond whether he can love me back encourages me to save him from replying in a way he may not actually not feel because he's been pressured.

"And it's fine if you don't…" I begin, before he jumps back into the conversation.

"No, uh, it's not that," he begins and I can feel myself blushing now as I realize I can barely breathe. "I, uh, mean I didn't um, admit to anything I don't feel as well…" he sounds so miserable I feel I should jump in.

"Good. So we're on the same page. And I'm saying it now, with no provocation, Zach: I love you."

"Love, uh, I love you too," he softly whispers. "Uh, I gotta go. Get back to work, you know?" he finishes, but before he can go, I need to clarify something.

"Okay. Does this mean I can uh, refer to you as my boyfriend?" I ask, wondering if he's going to be okay with this direction or uncomfortable.

"Yeah," he confirms and I throw my fist in the air in celebration. "I guess if you love me, and I uh, love you, that makes us boyfriends." At this point, Rich can tap dance across everything I own and I won't care. "But, I still haven't figured out about Jeanne and Gabe, you know?"

"I understand, Babe," I assure him. "The rest of the ground rules we set still apply." I hear him sigh, and I smile. "I'll letcha go now. Have a good day at work and I'll keep you updated. Love you."

"Love you too, Sweetheart."

I giddily hang up and revel in the fact that _my boyfriend loves me_! Rich and Robbie can suck it! I grab a banana and dance out the door to my car, eager to head to LA and get back home to Zach.

The drive to Los Angeles feels like it takes only a few minutes. I turn into my old parking structure, not sure whether I'm surprised that my gate key still works. I pull into my previous parking spot, and though the action is familiar, the feeling I get doing it isn't. I am truly over Rich as well as what happened. I wonder if Zach's appearance in my life has anything to do with how little I'm feeling right now. I can only imagine it does. This isn't home; I'm here to merely collect some stuff and go.

I grab the keys to my old condo, which have been sitting in my cup holder for weeks, then climb the stairs to my prior home. I unlock the door and enter. Standing inside the doorway, I wait and listen. Thus far I hear nothing and wonder if all the worrying I'd done had been for no good reason. Confident I'm alone, I head first to the bedroom.

I enter the closet and grab a few of my old bags. I stuff the remaining clothes I'd left behind in one of them and throw it on the bed, before heading to the dresser. I go through my drawers and empty them, then go through the items and detritus on the top, plucking out my things: receipts, jewelry, and other random stuff I'd forgotten I had left behind. Convinced I've grabbed all of my personal belongings from the bedroom, I take the bag off the bed and drop it off by the front door on my way to the office area.

I find the files I'd originally wanted to come for: my bank paperwork from Larry's trust fund. Additionally I go through everything else in the drawers and pull out what belongs to me. From the closet, I grab things that are mine, including an umbrella, my good camera, a ski coat, and my old skateboard. Stashing them with my bag near the door, I decide to walk around and search for anything else that's mine. While I'm in the bathroom tossing my old toothbrush in the garbage, I hear the front door click open.

I finish up in the bathroom and step out to confront my ex.


	44. Chapter 44

Rich looks…unremarkable. He's wearing a typical business suit and a tie I got him for our second anniversary. I'm surprised I genuinely feel _nothing_. I remember the way I just left with fewer bags than I took on my last trip to Europe. I remember the anger I felt making my heart-shaped toast for Zach, the only time I wasn't on auto-pilot or numb about the whole situation, and I'm angry on that Shaun's behalf. My life has changed, no, improved so much since leaving Rich that the principle of the matter still smarts, but even my inner drama queen has to admit I dodged an unremarkable life by walking in on him cheating on me several weeks ago.

"Hello Shaun," Rich greets me. Even his voice is bland and boring. The in-love-with-my-boyfriend part of me can't help but compare my ex to my current love. While Rich is financially successful, well-educated, and cultured, he doesn't—hasn't ever in our three years together—excited me the way spending one day with Zach does. I fell into a relationship with him because it was easy. We never argued, and while I don't argue with Zach, our banter back-and-forth and the way we challenge each other has helped me grow as a person and brought back the creativity my life's been lacking.

"Rich," I reply, and I'm at a loss on what to say to him.

"Hey, I'm glad that I have this opportunity to speak with you. You, uh, left in such a rush that day…" At this point the inner drama queen, who was planning out his 'I love Zach' tattoo, starts paying attention and leaps in to defend me against this troll.

"You were fucking Robbie and the new neighbor," I butt in with clenched teeth. "I didn't really see a chance to get a word in."

"About that," he begins, and I roll my eyes. The fact that I was ever attracted to this tool makes me question my decision-making skills. "It wasn't just me who could be considered guilty," he begins. "It takes two…" before he can finish this cliché, I chime in.

"You mean three."

"Er, fine, in this situation, it took three to tango. I can only wonder how you're treating the others."

"Well, Rich," I begin. "I really can't be upset at the neighbor. I hardly saw him and doubt he realized we were a couple, especially considering you _were involved in a three-way with him_. As for Robbie, I haven't seen nor heard from him since I found you together, so please don't worry that I'm in any way holding you to a different standard than my ex-best friend."

"I haven't seen him since that day either, and I'd like to explain," Rich offers. While at one point I would have demanded that explanation, right now I just don't care.

"It isn't necessary," I reply. "I'm just here to get my stuff and go."

"Yes well, I've been worried about you. I asked everyone I could think of about your whereabouts and nobody's heard from you." I send up a silent prayer thanking the heavens that if he did, in fact, contact those who knew where I am, that I have close-mouthed friends and the fact that Rich can barely remember Gabe's name, let alone his contact info. "I mean, what was I supposed to think, with you taking off like that with no word?"

"Honestly, I wasn't really concerned about that at all," I reply, becoming exasperated at Rich's egotistical take on the situation.

"Well, that's out of character for you, Shaun," he concludes, and I realize that it is, but I really don't care about or need his good opinion of me, but Nice Shaun shows a bit more sympathy.

"You have five minutes," I allow.

"I was feeling that we were growing distant. Robbie was there as a comfort to me. We met up with the neighbor at the pool, and I invited them back to our place to replenish our beverages and it just happened."

"Well, in any future relationships you have, I advise you to talk to your partner if you're feeling a 'distance,' and not end up in bed with their best friend," I snarkily retort. The inner drama queen cheers at my uncharacteristic cattiness.

"Shaun, you have to know that I want to repair this." _Did I just consider him well-educated?_ I think. _He's a complete moron._

"That will not be happening," I quietly inform him. "I've moved on."

Rich doesn't even look crestfallen, merely surprised I showed no interest in his proposition. I remember how angry Zach was, just on my behalf, and the difference in their emotions about and for me makes me love him even more. I'm so grateful to be with someone who would fight for me, instead of this weak man in front of me. "What about the committees we're on together?" he asks.

"They're all yours," I reply, my mind boggles that a few boards we sit on (at his insistence—none of them ever interested me), is his main priority. "I've got other things I care about that I'll be focusing my energies on," I finish, and I remember that I should swing by the school district after paying the deposit on my apartment later today. School recitals look damn-more exciting than sitting through another boring meeting for something I don't even remember I am supposed to care about.

"And Robbie?" he asks.

"Look, not that it's any of your business, but if I can't forgive and forget that my boyfriend cheated on me, what makes you think I'd extend that courtesy to my 'best friend'?" I ask, seriously confused as to why he seems more anxious about that particular relationship than ours. "I consider you both exes. But hey-no harm, no foul. I really haven't suffered having either of you out of my life the past few weeks," I finish, realizing the truth of the words. My friends who care about me have still been in touch, and while Robbie's betrayal still stings slightly, it's dulled over time and while I might miss him in the future, I can't see him in my future, and it doesn't make me sad to think that.

"Well, I was trying to be respectful of you and your friendship, but if you're no longer interested, then I must inform you that I'd like to pursue a…romantic relationship with him." At this point, if my mouth wasn't clenched, my jaw would have dropped.

"Have at it," is all I can say, as I'm in shock he went from trying to reunite with me to essentially asking for my blessing to date my best friend _that he's already slept with_. I swear I can see him mentally swapping me out and Robbie into those boring meetings and I internally chuckle thinking they deserve each other. Robbie had been a good friend until this fiasco, but I've seen him in relationships and he'll annoy Rich within two months. "If that's it, I'd like to finish packing my stuff and go," I spit out, anxious to get away from this lunacy.

"Of course Shaun. I'm glad we could discuss this like civilized adults. I was worried you'd be emotional and, messy, especially after being so reclusive lately. Like I said, I've been worried. I _do_ care about you. I want to thank you for this," he finishes, gesturing back and forth from me to him. _That's it, I can't take this anymore._

"Rich, I'm dating, and in love with, a hot, young, sexually-satisfying guy and it actually makes our relationship…" I point between the two of us, imitating his gesture, "…pale in comparison. So I can really only thank you for showing your true colors, because if you hadn't I probably would have just settled in with you, content in our mediocre-at-best sex life and cold, emotionless relationship. He inspires me and I've been writing again. In fact, my novel-the one I've been putting off for _over two years_-is almost complete, in less than a month of writing. And I have him, and actually, you for leading me to him, to thank, so _I_ want to thank_ you _for that." He opens his mouth, but no words come out. _Damn, that felt good!_

"I see that I misjudged the part about you being civilized," he retaliates, and I can only laugh.

"I guess so!" I walk away, to the living room and grab my books and DVDs, along with a couple knick-knacks. I do a quick inventory of the kitchen and walk out with nothing. I smile when I think of Zach rolling his eyes as the thought of me having kitchen stuff. Rich is still standing there, and even the tie I bought him is such a lackluster gift, it makes me want to laugh. _Really? A tie? That's the best I could do?_ What a great indicator of how crummy our relationship was.

"Well, I think that's it," I announce, grabbing the bags I'd packed, and throwing the rest of my stuff inside. "I have your contact info, so if I realize I missed something, I will be drop a line to you. And if you find something of mine, feel free to email me," I instruct, handing over the key. He takes it with a stunned look, and suddenly I feel a little bad for going off on him. "Hey," I grab his hand and begin shaking it. "Seriously though, I'm okay. I'm happy, and…" I can't believe I'm saying this, or that it's true, "…I hope you find happiness too." He nods, still dazed, and I turn to leave.

I am so relieved this is over, and I still have to swing by the bank and my new apartment, but first, I know I should call Zach and check in with him because I'm sure he's worried about me, and that warms my heart, which had been numb the whole time I was here.


	45. Chapter 45

I pull out of the parking area to head to Larry's bank while I call Zach. Before the first ring even ends, he answers and just hearing his voice brushes away any residual funk I feel after being near Rich.

"Hi Sweetheart," he answers in a very serious-sounding voice. I have to smile at his concern.

"Hey Babe, that was a quick pick up," I reply with a grin.

"I've uh, been waiting for your call. Worried, you know?"

"Well, you'll be happy to know I made it out just fine. I got all my stuff and uh, told Rich off, so I'm feeling pretty good," I explain.

"Oh, you did, eh? What did you say? I can't imagine _you_ telling anyone off," he admits and I can hear him beginning to smile.

"Well, I thought of you, actually. Uh, how you were ready to punch him just because he'd hurt me. And so I told him that I was in an amazing relationship with a hot young sexy man who put him to shame in every way imaginable. And that I love this man more than I had ever felt anything for him. He, uh, didn't take it well."

Zach cuts in, suddenly serious again. "Did he _try anything_?"

"No Babe. It wasn't like that. I mean, he tried telling me I was being immature; I laughed in his face, which probably made him think that proved his suspicion but I didn't care. I got my stuff and got out of there. I've got a few errands to run and I can't wait to get back. To you."

"Well, I can't wait for you to get back to me too," he says softly, making my stomach drop.

"What are you doing right now? You're between shifts, right?" I ask, looking at the clock to confirm.

"Uh, nothing. Not really doing much, you know?" he replies, rather vaguely. I can tell something's up, but I don't want to get too inquisitive because he didn't question it when I mentioned the mysterious errands I'm about to run, which include tapping into a trust fund he knows nothing about.

"When will I see you again?" I ask, anxious to hold him.

"Tonight. As soon as my evening shift ends. And I, uh, have tomorrow off so I'm spending the night." I love how he didn't get all 'That-is-if-that's-okay-with-you' about it like he has before. I guess he _finally_ understands that I will _always_ want him with me when possible.

"That's great!" I enthuse. "What do you wanna do tomorrow?" I ask, excited about the prospect of spending the day with him.

"Well, the waves are supposed to be epic."

"Then let's hit 'em," I affirm with a smile.

"Okay, sounds good. I'll uh, see you tonight, you know?"

"I can't wait. Love you."

He pauses for a second. "Love you too."

I pull into Larry's bank and park, spending a few minutes going through the necessary paperwork. The account the trust fund consists of was officially put in my name five years ago, but having never touched it, I don't remember all the details, only that his lawyer had been the trustee before then and still had some access to the fund but had relinquished management of it when I'd turned 25. Skimming the documents, I see that I'm right about how it was set up and should have little trouble accessing the money. I send up a silent little blessing for my dear step-father for setting this up and never once closing it in all the years it sat there collecting interest. If I recall, some of the money had been set up in a savings account and some had been invested with the dividends being added to the account. I plan to just pull the money saved, if able, and leave the invested money alone, imagining that there should be near $50,000 to tap into before touching the invested money, if the investments did well over the years. Even if the dividends were miniscule, there should be more than enough to bring Zach's family to LA and settle everyone comfortably without anyone having to worry about finding work and paying bills for several months.

I pull the papers I need and grab my passport from a bag of my stuff I'd picked up from Rich's as my second form of ID, before heading into the bank. I find an associate and explain what I want to do, and she seats me at a mahogany desk before going to find a manager.

The manager comes and shakes my hand, introducing himself before taking a seat behind the desk. I explain how I want to access the money in the account but not the invested funds, wondering how much money the investments bring in yearly as I consider Cody and how he'll need to attend college someday. The manager shuffles some paperwork and looks at some numbers on his computer before addressing me.

"Yes that should be fine. Would you like the full amount in savings transferred to an account you have elsewhere, or would you like us to open a checking account in your name with the amount?" he asks in his monotone banking voice.

"I can open an account here," I reply after considering. I'd had accounts with Rich that I'd closed several weeks ago and the idea of a new bank for my fresh start seems logical.

"Excellent, excellent," he counters, tapping on his keyboard for several seconds before pausing. "Oh, there's a note on this account," he explains.

"What does that mean?" I ask, confused.

"Just that there may have been a change at some point. Let's see what it says," he continues, clicking on the mouse. "Hmm, it looks like your step-father's lawyer, the original trustee stopped in recently," he begins.

"Oh," I reply. "Well, he knew I'd be by to access it soon, so maybe it was to make sure it was ready?" I ask with little concern.

"It looks like, yes, there were some changes—Oh, don't worry, since he's no longer officially a 'trustee' of the fund, he wasn't able to pull monies," he makes clear looking up at me to see if I'm upset. I'm sure my face just shows confusion.

"Oh, well, that's fine," I rejoin, sure that he was just finishing up paperwork for Larry or something.

"It looks like he left an envelope. Some additional instructions or whatnot. I'll grab that from the vault as well as your new account information," he clarifies, standing up.

"Uh, okay." He walks with purpose toward the tellers area of the bank, past them and down the hall to where I assume the vault is. He returns with an envelope and account paperwork to be signed. He explains what needs to be filled out and I begin that process. Handing me the envelope, he explains the instructions left in the note on the account detail how I'm to receive that before the transfer of money officially takes place. I fill out the remainder of the information required before grabbing the envelope, which has Larry's lawyer's firm embossed up in its crisp linen corner.

I open it and pull out an equally-fancy sheet of paper that I assume the lawyer's secretary typed.

_Shaun,_

_ I hope this letter finds you well, and on your way to drastically improving your quality of life, the way only family can. I'm so glad we were able to come to an understanding and look forward to continuing to build our relationship when I return to the States. As your path isn't the conventional one your brother will eventually (God and a good woman willing!) take, I can't yet present you with a wedding gift and though I hope to someday, please consider this jump-start to your new life in the same vein. I'm so proud of you, Son._

_ Larry_

The sentiment is sweet, but I'm a bit confused about what he means. I chuckle at the bit about Gabe and my eyes well up when he mentions wedding gifts. I fold up the note and return it to the envelope, slipping it inside my passport.

The manager completes his work on the computer and prints several sheets of paper. He leaves quickly and returns just as quickly with a temporary card and checks. "Alright, Mr. Andrews, I believe we have everything in order. Here's your account information along with the means to access your funds until the permanent ones arrive. All I need for you to do is sign this one last document," he points to an 'X' and I scrawl my signature again. "And you are good to go," he finishes the spiel, handing me the sheets he'd printed along with some copies of various documents. Seeing the growing stack, he pulls a manila folder from his desk drawer and hands it to me. I gratefully shove everything in there, anxious to get my other errands done.

"Thanks," I reply with a smile as I stand up to leave.

"Thank you, Mr. Andrews. And if you need anything, please don't hesitate to call us," he answers back with a courteous smile.

I walk out to my car and the coconut sex wax smell hits me immediately. I grin, confident that I can now officially ask Zach to move in with me, and move his nephew and sister to an easier life. I think of the letter from Larry and re-read it, still confused. Peering through the many documents, I find the one with my new account's balance and gasp. Convinced I'm crazy, I look through the rest of the files and they all show the same information. I look for the sheet that shows the gains added when the money was in the trust. It shows several smaller additions every month from interest and yearly bumps from dividends. And one larger sum added just last week. I suddenly experience some difficulty remembering how to breathe. The $50,000 I had assumed would be there was correct. But I hadn't taken into account—hadn't even begun to imagine my step-father's largesse.

A week ago, Larry's lawyer had okayed an additional $200,000 to the account. _Two hundred thousand dollars._ A _quarter_ of a _million dollars_ now resides in my name. The tears that welled in my eyes earlier now erupt and flow over my cheeks. Cody can easily attend any college he wants. Even if Zach doesn't win a scholarship to CalArts, he can afford to go with no worries and without working several jobs to make ends meet for his family.

It suddenly hits me that I can buy a house. Though that's not something I would consider doing on a whim, the fact that I can boggles my mind. Obviously that will be down the road when life is a bit more settled, but I can't help but imagine a yard for Cody to play in, a studio for Zach. Maybe a guest house for Jeanne? The possibilities now seem limitless, and I send up a silent prayer for benevolent step-fathers everywhere before gathering my composure and heading to sign the lease to my new place.


	46. Chapter 46

I begin the drive to North Hollywood still processing what having access to that kind of money will mean. I consider Zach's insistence that he pay his way and wonder if this boon will be a help or hindrance when I talk to him about possibly combining our lives and moving here. My phone chirps, interrupting my thoughts. I look at the screen and see that it's Gabe.

"Hey little brother," I greet Gabe with a smile.

"Hey older bro, how's it hangin'?" he classily returns my salutation.

"I doubt you really wanna know, but if you insist, it's…" I joke back as Gabe begins coughing. I usually am not able to get a joke in with my brother but today's events have made me damn-near jovial. He's still coughing, so I start to get concerned. "Hey are you okay? What's up?"

He finishes his coughing fit. "Oh, God, I thought you were gonna start talking about your crazy gay sexcapades, and Lord knows I support you getting down with dudes, but that doesn't mean I need those images taking up valuable room in my spank-bank!" I snort and roll my eyes, chuckling at beating my brother at his own game. "You seem to be in a funny mood," he announces.

"I am," I confirm with a smile. "I'm in a great mood!"

"Good bro," he gets serious, or as serious as Gabe can be. "I'm glad for that. What's got you in a good mood? Did you score front row seats to Cher's Farewell Tour du jour or something?" I choose to ignore his stereotypical assumption and be as honest as I can while in my mind I confess the truth: _I'm in love with your best friend and he loves me back and the sex is awesome and I don't care if that image is burned into your mind and ruins your next interaction with a random chick because it's amazing and wonderful and true!_

"Well, I'm in LA. Heading to my new place to sign paperwork. It should be ready by the weekend. I look forward to that. And I went by my old place and picked up the rest of my stuff," I elaborate, looking at the boxes and bags in the back from my rearview mirror.

"And how is Rich-Rich the little bitch?" he enquires. I laugh at the well-deserved title he's bestowed upon my ex.

"Uh, he seemed surprised that I didn't wanna patch things up and get back together."

"Are you fucking kidding me bro? What a tool. You know, I never really liked him."

"Yeah, you and everyone else say that now, but while we were together, nobody thought to mention that little fact," I ruminate, shaking my head.

"Well nobody wants to be told they're involved with a total wet blanket. I mean, he's _never even surfed_!" my brother continues, showing his priorities. I smile, and find a small way to mention my relationship with his best friend without breaking the spirit of my agreement with Zach.

"Fine, I promise you that the next man I date will be just as into surfing as you are, if not more so. Is that better?"

"Dude, I doubt you could find a guy like that, but if you do, I promise to like him way more than Rich. Not that he made himself very likeable. He always called me Abe. Do I look like an 'Abe' to you?" he sounds seriously offended, so I continue.

"And I promise said future boyfriend will know your name and call you by it."

"Swear on your longboard," he challenges me.

"I swear on my longboard," I agree.

"And if he doesn't, I'm taking that longboard and burning it, old man. It's embarrassing hitting the waves with you on that thing!" I grimace at his insistence my longboard isn't awesome, shaking my head as I remind myself that he learned to surf from me and may have picked up that prejudice from me in my much younger days as well.

"Fine."

"Good bro. I'm glad I called to check in on you. It seems like things are working out, you know, for the best. I can't wait for your new place to be ready for a housewarming—I have the best gift in mind I saw at the head shop last week." _Oh God, how do you tactfully turn down a bong when his heart is in the right place? _ I wonder. I don't even bother.

"That sounds, uh, that sounds great," I reply.

"Okay Shauny-poo, I gotta head out," he finishes, and I notice his customary farewell advice is missing.

"What, no sex safety tip-of-the-day?" I ask.

He pauses for a second to think. "Oh, uh, cover your wang before doin' yo' thang. Peace bro!" He hangs up and I grin as I put my phone down. Our conversation definitely got my mind off presenting Zach with my new-found wealth and I'm almost to the duplex.

I arrive and pull into the driveway of the 3-bedroom I'll be signing the lease to. It occurs to me that while a garage is nice, it would be even nicer as a studio for Zach. Susan pops out from the side yard with a big smile and a hug ("I'm a hugger!" she insists; I can't help but be completely charmed by her.) and presents the lease which I promptly sign. We tour the apartment again and I'm glad that it was available. There's a lot more room and I can envision living here with Zach and Cody, and even Jeanne. Working at the beach house on the dining table has convinced me that I don't need an office to myself and the dining area is big enough to accommodate a small desk as well as a table. I fill out one of the temporary checks for the first month's rent and deposit, explaining that it's a new account and if necessary I can get a money order. Susan laughs and tells me she knows she can trust me because her gut tells me I'm a good soul and takes my check. She hugs me again before handing me keys and tells me I can move in whenever I'd like. I remember to ask about the school district and she gives me the info I need to look it up online. I thank her again and return to my car.

I find myself humming the entire way back to Long Beach. When I pull into the drive at the mansion, I debate taking my stuff inside or leaving it since it won't stay here. I shake my head, realizing I should have just locked it up at my new place and decide to just leave most of it for the time being. I grab the air freshener I bought for Zach's Jimmy, intent to sneak it into his car soon, and the paperwork from the bank, before heading inside.

The folder reminds me again of Larry's kindness and I'm compelled to send him a message acknowledging his gift. I open my laptop to compose an email, reflecting on how our relationship's progressed from a crummy talking dart board to the sizable amount of money in my bank account.

_Larry,_

_ My mother raised me to send 'thank you' notes to the people I'm fortunate to have in my life who give me gifts. While you're currently traveling, finding a location to send a stamped card would be impossible, so please accept this digital mail and rest assured there will be a pen-and-paper version waiting for you when you arrive home. Thank you. These two words feel inadequate compared to your generous gift, but they're currently all I can offer in return. Beyond even the financial gift, thank you for not ever giving up on me and keeping faith that I would one day come around. Additionally, in an attempt to make amends for my past treatment of you, I realize I never really thanked you for anything you did for me or gave me. Please consider this my thanks for every way you improved my life, even while I blew it off as a teenager. I now wish I'd given that talking dart board a chance before tossing it in the box for charity. _

_ Thanks again._

_ Your son,_

_ Shaun_

I re-read it before hitting "Send" to make sure it's not too hokey or emotional. The funny bit about the dart board saves it from being sappy and once I decide I'm happy with it, I send it.

While I'm on the computer, I make a note to stop by a stationary store to get a nice card for the physical thank you I'll be leaving here when I move. That still doesn't feel like enough, and so I pull up my book when inspiration strikes. There's a benefactor in the story that I had named "Stan." I click the "Find" function and replace every "Stan" with "Larry." I doubt he'll ever read it, but just knowing I did it to honor him leaves me feeling like I at least attempted to begin to pay him back.

Satisfied, I close the document and look at the time. It's almost nine, so Zach should be getting off soon. My email service pings that I got a new message. I look and see Larry's already replied.

_Shaun,_

_ I'm glad you were able to access your trust with no problems, and appreciate your email. As proof that I always knew we'd have a better relationship someday, go down to the wine cellar. There will be a box near some crates against the far wall. Your name will be on it. Have fun Son!_

_ Larry_

I'm immediately intrigued by his missive and jump up to go to the cellar. I turn on the low-level lighting down there and peer around for the crates he'd mentioned. Seeing them, I spy a cardboard box with my name written in Sharpie. I decide to take it upstairs before opening it and grab a new bottle of red along the way. I set the box and bottle down and grab a glass and corkscrew. I open the bottle and pour myself a generous amount before opening the box.

I peel the tape off and open it, instantly beginning to laugh. Nestled inside is my never-even-opened Christmas gift from years ago, 'To: Shaun From: Larry' gift tag still intact: my talking dart board.


	47. Chapter 47

I take a swig of wine and open the packaging encasing the dozen-year-old present. I pull out the board and darts and skim the instruction manual. I have to admit, this _would_ actually be cool to most guys in their late teens and early twenties. In fact, I played quite a lot of Cricket in college, so Teenage Shaun probably would have really enjoyed the present if he'd bothered to do more than scoff at it because of who gave it to him. Rather than feel shame for what a jerk I was then, I decide to find some batteries for it.

Now that I know where the batteries reside in this house, it takes mere minutes before I have the machine up and running. It's the kind of dart board with plastic tipped darts and the nylon bristles so I can mount it anywhere without the fear of stray darts damaging a wall. As I'm wondering where to hang it, I see Zach's car pull into the drive.

I feel a bit giddy as I slowly open the door to him, my boyfriend, my love. He's got his backpack and just in jeans and a ratty, paint-spattered old hoodie, this man takes my breath away. Immediately he shoves the door further open and grabs me in a tight embrace. His lips find mine and the intensity of the moment reminds me of when he came over that first crazy night and said nothing while taking me to bed. Zach's hands travel to my head and he pulls me closer while kicking the door shut. As quickly as the kiss begins it ends. Zach pulls several inches away while still keeping hold of my head. His eyes travel back and forth across my face, searching. He does this for several seconds before I start go get concerned.

"What?" I ask, a little defensively.

"Nothing. I was just, uh, worried. You said things went well in LA, but I had to see for myself." _Of course._

"I'm okay, Babe," I assure him, the giddiness in my stomach going double-time at the thought of his protective love for me. It humbles me that I'm supposed to be the older, wiser one but that doesn't stop him from worrying about me.

"Yeah," he concedes, sighing. "I can see that."

"In fact, I'm, uh, _better_ than okay," I elaborate with a grin. "You see, when I started out this day, I was just a relatively single guy going to pick up his stuff from his ex's, and I am ending the day in the arms of my boyfriend. So all in all, I'd say I'm pretty okay." He begins to grin and I can see the seriousness he entered the house with melt away. "I love you," I tell him, for the first time face to face.

"Hey, I love you too," he shyly smiles, then nuzzles my neck as I pull him into a big hug. I'm content to just hold him like this forever, but apparently he's got other plans, because he's maneuvered his mouth under the neckline of my sweater and is beginning to leave his mark. I sigh and allow it, grateful that my wetsuit goes all the way to my neck and has a collar. His enthusiastic attention to my upper shoulder calms down and I tickle his sides to get his attention back.

"How was work?" I ask as I grab his hand and draw him into the kitchen area. I gesture to the wine and he nods his head so I go to grab him a glass as he talks about his day.

"It was fine. Sucked to do the split-shift, but you know, it's over now and I have tomorrow off and don't have to go back until the next day for an afternoon shift, so I can't complain."

"Cool," I reply as I pour him a glass of red. "Does that mean you'll be here tomorrow night too?" I ask, hopeful to have him to myself for two nights in a row.

"Yup." He looks over to the table and notices the dart board. "Uh, what's that?" He asks, pointing to it with his wine glass.

"Remember how Larry got Gabe the walkie-talkies, and me a talking dart board?" He nods. "That's it."

"You kept it all this time?" he asks, confused. I shake my head.

"Nope. Larry did." And I decide I want to tell Zach about my newly-improved relationship with my step-dad. "We've uh, we've come to an understanding recently. And are working on building a better relationship. I've uh, come to the realization that I never gave him a chance; he's actually a really great guy." Zach grins.

"I always thought so," he affirms. "I'm glad you're working on making things better with him. Family's important, you know?"

I grab him in another hug. "Yeah, I know," I smile, marveling at how often Zach's the younger and wiser member of our duo. He's always know the importance of his family, even willingly fighting for it. I realize how I'm included in that group now and I take a deep breath in awe that he sees me that way too.

"So, uh, what do you plan to do with that thing?" he asks, nodding to the dart board. Inspiration strikes.

"Oh, you know, I was just thinking we could have a friendly little game of strip-darts," I answer with a leer.

"It's on dude," he exclaims with a grin. He sets his glass down and rubs his hands together. "Prepare to get naked."

"Big words, Student."

"Ah, but Student has surpassed Master on the waves. One could assume Student's youth will be an advantage as far as steady aim and seeing the board," he jokes, and I pretend to punch his shoulder. "So where will this test of skills take place?"

"Well, considering where it will end up, I'd say my room," I offer, grabbing the board and accessories and tossing them back into the box to take upstairs. Zach grabs he wine bottle and we head to my bedroom. I set it up on the far wall, taking a piece of art off the wall to utilize the nail already there. I turn on the board and hand Zach the red darts, taking the green ones for myself.

"How do we want to play this?" he asks, and I debate the various dart games before coming up with a quicker way to get him undressed.

"How 'bout you lose a clothing item every round I hit, say, 70 points?" I ask. He considers it and nods.

"Bull is 25 and the bull's-eye is 50? Double and triple rings count?" I nod, realizing I might be in trouble. Zach's clearly played darts before. "Cool." I compare how we're dressed; he's obviously got an advantage wearing a t-shirt as well as a hoodie and he's got socks and shoes while I'm barefoot. He sees me sizing him up and takes off his footwear. "I'll even make this fair by taking off my jacket," he exclaims, peeling it off and throwing it on the floor. "Though I should just shuck everything but my boxers if I really want to be fair to you." I roll my eyes at his jovial cockiness.

"Let's just play, brat!" I laugh. We agree upon an appropriate distance and Zach insists I go first. I aim and throw, hitting a 17. The second I get is in the double ring of 12, so it counts for 24. My third and final throw this round is 13 with a total of 54, so Zach doesn't have to discard any clothes. "I'm just warming up," I assure him with a wink as I retrieve my darts.

"I'll have you naked by the time you're all warmed up," he quips back with a smirk. Even with that goofy grin and arrogant confidence, he's so beautiful to me. Zach lines up his dart and throws, hitting the 20 in the double ring for 40. _Shit!_ He shrugs his shoulders. "I warned you," he boasts. His next throw earns him 11. "Nineteen's all I need, Sweetheart, and your shirt's mine!" he hoots, taking aim for his third shot. He tosses it, hitting the innermost V of the 20, dangerously close to the center. "Woo-hoo!" he shouts and I pull off my sweatshirt without any complaints, like a good sport. I line up to aim and he pulls his darts from the board. "Maybe we should give you a handicap, old man." I stick my tongue out at him and throw.

My first attempt garners a mere six points. The second throw of this round hits the triple ring of number 11 for 33 points. With a total of 39 points, I'm not feeling that good fortune is on my side right now, and my bad luck is confirmed when I hit eight for a final score of 47. I sigh, ready to listen to Zach boast. This time he says nothing after I pull my darts.

He aims and throws, hitting 17, then again hitting 17 a second time. His third throw is 20, but with the total of 54, I get to keep my jeans for this round. My turn again results in a miserable total score of 43.

Zach throws his first one of this round and hits the bull's eye. He throws his fist in the air and wiggles around in a happy dance. His second attempt gets him 17 points and I begin to unbutton my jeans, expecting the inevitable. He sees me and raises his eyebrows suggestively. I shake my head at as he whistles. He aims and throws and hits…the wall. _Yes! _I button my jeans back up but attempt not to gloat as I'm the mature one in this situation. Zach shakes his head and sighs, eyeing my navel. I begin to wonder if he missed the throw because he was hot and bothered.

My next turn gets me closer to a shirtless Zach with a total of 64. He acts suitably impressed and gathers 56 points with his first two throws. I test my theory by toying with my waistband. He's watching out of the corner of his eye, while attempting to concentrate. His third throw is a little wild but gets him in eight's double ring, but I can tell it did shake him up a bit. I gladly drop my jeans and step out of them. Zach's breathing definitely deepens.

In just my underwear, I brush past him as he returns from gathering his darts. I aim and hit the bull for 25 points! My second throw is in the 20 double ring, so I only need five more points to hit 70. I throw and get the eight, and instead of gloating or dancing, I merely grin and put my hands on my hips as Zach pulls his t-shirt over his head. I grab my darts and again brush past him; this time the skin on skin contact makes him jump slightly.

He lines up to throw and I begin to stretch, causing my underwear to dip slightly lower down my hips. Zach tosses his dart and it hits the number 3 outside of the double ring perimeter and bounces off. He's clearly flustered, so I smile and chime in. "Everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah," he swallows and throws again, this time hitting two points. I pretend my ankle itches and bend over to scratch it. I hear him inhale and grin. Before standing back up, I compose my face so he doesn't realize I'm intentionally messing with him. I look at him innocently. This time he squints and really focuses on the board and his aim, and I giggle, because even if he gets a triple ring 20, I won't be getting naked from this round. He gives me a dirty look.

"Does Butterfly realize Master won't be fully disrobing this time?" I ask, putting my hands back on my hips and using my thumbs to pull my waistband up and down.

"Shut up!" he growls, throwing the dart. It lands in the bull's-eye. He grins. "Student wonders if Master remembers the rule about second bull's-eyes?" I shake my head, anxious to see where he takes this. "Second bull's-eye means game over."

"Thank God," I sigh and pull him to me for a kiss. "I thought this game would never end!" I elaborate between kisses as I tug at his jeans' button while pulling him to the bed.


	48. Chapter 48

"Ha!" he barks, giggling for a few seconds before continuing as I sit down at the edge of the bed and continue working on his jeans. "More like you were losing so bad that you didn't wanna prolong the misery!" He shakes his head as he looks down at me playing with his waistband. I finally get the button undone and pull down his zipper. My close proximity to the jeans brings the smell of fresh paint to my attention, and I notice several white and a couple red splatters.

"Did you paint recently?" I ask, excited to think he'd been working on his art.

"Uh, yeah. A little bit between shifts," he explains as the tops of his cheeks turn pink. I wonder at why he's so shy about it but swiftly change topics as I peel his jeans down his legs.

"That's awesome," I encourage as he steps out of his pants and kicks them aside. "But it seems to me that _you_ were the one anxious to end the challenge, pulling that nonsense about two bull's-eyes ending a game whose rules we'd just made up and included no such contingencies," I smile and lean back on the bed, pulling myself up to the pillows. He jumps on next to me as I continue. "It seems to me that you were a bit, uh, _distracted_."

"Well it's no secret between us that I like your ass," he smiles at me with hooded eyes. "So when you were totally, obviously, glaringly attempting to mess with my concentration by brushing up against me and bending over, which by the way was a much more appealing target, I just assumed you were ready for the game to end too," he explains as he cuddles into my arm and his hands begin grazing my chest.

"Yeah, it seemed like a good idea at the time, and it was fun for a few minutes, but this is…" I lose my words, so content in the moment. Zach fills in where I left off.

"Better?"

"Bull's-eye! Yes. Better. So much better, Babe," I breathe into his forehead as I run my fingers through his hair from the back of his head. He smiles and I kiss the space between his eyes.

"I love you," he quietly offers, and for the first time he's said it unprompted and not as a reply.

"Love you too."

"Glad you're back from LA."

"Me too."

"When do you have to go back? You know, for good?" he asks, and I exhale as I debate whether to use the opportunity to bring up moving everyone there and the money and everything. I know I need to soon, but I just want to enjoy this time with him without having another Big Talk or God forbid an argument. Now that everything's lined up and going so well, it doesn't seem as urgent, except for submitting the CalArts application, with its deadline fast approaching. So because I want to enjoy the now, and savor our time together since using the "L" word, I hold off and deflect.

"Oh I dunno. My new place is pretty much ready but I'm not in a rush," I begin, deciding to talk with him before he goes to work after spending the day and a couple nights together. That way he'll have time to think about it while we're apart and not feel pressure to answer one way or another immediately, but will also have just spent a couple (awesome and amazing) days with me that will hopefully sway his decision. "Ask me again when I didn't just get spanked at darts by some punk kid," I tease, ruffling his hair like I do Cody's sometimes.

"Hey, you didn't ask if I'd ever played before!" he defends himself. "I would assume you were planning to take advantage of me!"

"Yes well, I was. But you didn't exactly come clean that you're some sort of darts ringer!" I exclaim in my most offended voice.

Zach begins to laugh. "Dude, you don't have to set up an elaborate game to take advantage—unlimited nooky, remember?"

"Ah, but it was me that made that available to you—I wasn't aware you'd made the same offer," I reply, caressing his shoulder as I turn in to face him.

"I think it pretty much goes both ways, Sweetheart," he softly replies before kissing the hollow below my Adam's apple.

"Good to know," I conclude, pulling his face to mine. I kiss his jaw and cheek and nose before zeroing in on his mouth, when he tentatively takes the lead, gently pushing his tongue against my lips and into my mouth.

He pulls away briefly and rolls over me and sits up on his knees so he's hovering over and straddling my waist. From this angle, he drops his hands on the bed next to my ears then leans in and rains kisses across my forehead. He pauses and sits upright to look at me, giving the most heart-melting lopsided smile; I feel…cherished. He continues kissing down my jaw and along my neck, rubbing his cheeks against my beard scruff before returning to my mouth for more red wine-flavored kisses.

My hands roam down from his neck to his shoulders and lower along his sides, squeezing his waist and settling where his boxers (that had at one point been mine) sit low on his hips. My fingers slip under the waistband and pull them down but they don't go far because he's still settled over me. He notices what I'm doing and flips back to his side of the bed so I can divest him of his last piece of clothing. I ball them up and throw them near the dart board then decide to be cheeky.

"Looks like I won, Babe. Got you naked while_ I'm_ still in my underwear."

"Not for long—and you didn't win!" he growls as he attacks my briefs. I lift my butt up so he can pull them lower and he tosses them in the general direction I threw his. He then turns back to me with a grin. "Now what was that about getting spanked by some punk kid?" he asks, putting a pillow next to my midsection and grabbing my hip to guide me onto it near my stomach.

I smile into another pillow as he runs his hand across my elevated ass. I try not to clench as I'm waiting for the smack. Back and forth, up and down then side to side, he hovers his hand all over my backside and the anticipation is driving me crazy. Sometimes he grazes my flesh with his nails and I'm getting goose bumps. I am so hot for this man. Suddenly he stops and reaches over me so his mouth is next to my ear.

"I'm not gonna spank you silly!" he whispers, before grabbing a condom and lube from the nightstand and returning to my ear. "Your ass is too hot to be marred with a handprint, even if it's my own," he continues, then returns to giving it his full concentration, and I have to laugh at the fact that he'll give me a hickey in two seconds, and doesn't mind handprints and bruises on his own butt, but doesn't want mine to be suffer the same fate.

"You're ridiculous, you know?" I lean back to tell him as he resumes his up and down attention, this time also focusing on my hips.

"Well it's a good thing you enjoy ridiculous," he volleys back.

"I love ridiculous," I smile back as I feel the cool lube dripping along my crack. The bed shifts and I pull a leg up as I hear the tearing of the wrapper before I feel his cock settle between my cheeks. He begins to enter me and I feel so full—of love and contentment and sheer happiness, that I'm afraid there won't be room for him. But of course that's…ridiculous. My body allows his entry and I feel even fuller of love and happiness. He seems pretty content too, lazily thrusting with no immediate need to get off. This is my favorite form of fucking: sex for the sheer fun of sex, with someone you love. Lovemaking.

With Zach behind and above me, I can feel his breath along the hair at the nape of my neck. We get into a slow rhythm for several perfect minutes and I turn my head while he kisses my ear.

"Love you," I groan out as he hits my most sensitive spot. I have a few more moments before I'll be done and I intend to enjoy them.

"You too," he replies, and his thrusts take on a more urgent quality, so I know he's close too. I pull up a bit so I can take care of myself, but before I can, he's climaxing. He collapses next to me and sees me still needing release. Flipping me fully over and taking my cock in his hand, he begins pumping before taking me in his mouth. He sucks as I thrust and in seconds I'm about to go.

"Coming, Babe," I warn, but he keeps going, faster and harder. I spill into his mouth as I groan out his name. He pulls off his condom and discards it then leans in to snuggle up into my arms and we both fall fast asleep.


	49. Chapter 49

I wake up while the sun is just beginning to rise. Zach's back is pressed against my abdomen and I watch the steady rise and fall of his shoulder. It's way too early to be awake, but I feel compelled to do something. Last night was amazing, and that giddy feeling in my stomach is back. I want today to be phenomenal and exceptional and the perfect ending to a couple of perfect days to be capped off when I tell him I want us to move to LA, together with his family and that I have the means to do it.

I consider how to make today amazing on the fly. We're set to go surfing, so I consider that. A picnic would be adorable, especially on his bluff. Having just gone grocery shopping, I'm confident that I can find enough things in the kitchen to make a good meal. I consider the schedule and decide to go downstairs to set it up now while Zach's still asleep.

I ease away from him and slowly pull myself out of the bed. Quietly throwing on my underwear, I grab Zach's car keys from his jeans and exiting the room, I hop down the stairs. I go through the pantry and fridge, grabbing peanut butter and jelly to make sandwiches. I pull out some apples and baby carrots, along with a couple chocolate chip cookies from a package I'd bought with Cody in mind. I assemble the sandwiches and throw them in some plastic baggies.

Gathering everything, I put it in a cooler bag I'd found on a bottom shelf in one of the cabinets. I run down to the cellar and grab a bottle of wine to add, along with a blanket and corkscrew before pulling his keys out. I remember the air freshener and go grab that from my bank paperwork before heading to his car. I pull the freshener out of the wrapper and hang it from the right side of the steering wheel where he won't immediately see it. As I tuck the cooler bag picnic behind the passenger seat, I see my books. They're tucked among some sketch books and the CalArts application. _The application! And my books!_ I grab my novels first and immediately think of the minute I'd realized I wanted Zach in a forever sort of way: when he'd joked about his lifetime membership to my fan club. I look around for a pen to fulfill the "perks" of that membership level.

I find a pen in the glove compartment and grab the first book, opening it to the title page to write.

_Zach,_

_Thank you for your lifetime membership to the Shaun Andrews Fan Club. I hope you enjoy all the perks associated with this membership level, including but not limited to: a lifetime of shower-water conservation with Mr. Andrews, unlimited heart-shaped French toast breakfasts served my Mr. Andrews, and continued surfing instruction to Student from Master. _

_Sincerely,_

_Shaun Andrews, President of the Zach Plummer Fan Club_

I read it through. Cute, fun, and flirty. I set the book back down and grab the next one. This one will be simple and to the point:

_Babe,_

_I love you._

_Your Sweetheart_

I scrawl my signature at the bottom and put it with the first one. Grabbing the final book, I decide to get serious and honest.

_Dear Zach,_

_This book was my greatest achievement professionally. I say 'was' because book four will make this one pale in comparison. This next book, I encourage you to read the dedication page. Because I love you, I'll give you a hint: it's dedicated to you. Because it's inspired by you. Book four is my love letter to you, and I fervently hope that books five through however many I write will be the continuation of that love letter. You inspire me beyond one book, and one word seems insignificant to explain how I feel about you, but it's all I can offer, my love. Thank you and Cody for bringing creativity and happiness back into my life. You are my soulmate, the other end of a red thread I finally found 14 years after I discovered it attached to me._

_All my love,_

_Shaun_

Satisfied this one accurately expresses many of the feelings that have been bursting to escape from me, I'm happy with it and tickled that I was able to more accurately express my love through my chosen medium of words. I put the book with its predecessors. I grab the CalArts paperwork with the intention to talk to him about it when we discuss the future tomorrow. I close the door and return to the house, heading upstairs to fall back asleep, now that the love-jitters I was feeling have calmed themselves after I've finally done something to acknowledge them.

I mutedly climb the stairs to my room, tuck his keys back in his jeans and discard my drawers then ease back into bed. I edge my way to return my stomach to his back so we're spooning again. I gently throw my arm across him and pull closer as he snuggles into me. I fall back asleep excited to wake with him later and spend a perfect day together.

A couple hours later I wake up to Zach's hand running up and down my arm over him.

"Mornin'" I yawn.

"Hi Sweetheart," he sleepily responds, flipping himself so we can see each other. I roll from my side to my back and he joins me, hovering over to give me several sweet and sensual kisses. Between a few kisses, he gently rubs his nose against mine, Eskimo-kiss style, then resumes his kissing attention to my mouth.

"This is a nice way to start the day," I murmur with a slight smile. He grins back and starts to kiss my right shoulder, then lifts his head to kiss near my ear before replying.

"I'm feeling extra lovey this morning for some reason," he whispers as I rub his shoulder. He then returns to kiss my clavicle and neck before nuzzling there and settling in as I close my eyes and sigh, intent not to tear up at how perfect this morning has already started. I hope it bodes well for today.

"I'm feeling extra lovey today too Babe," I choke out, blinking to get rid of the glassiness glazing my eyes. In fact, I'd like to include to our surf trip at a place that's newly near and dear to my heart, if that's cool," I begin. Zach looks up curiously from his resting spot along my neck. "Your bluff," I explain. He grins, then looks out the window.

"I'm down with that," he agrees, "but we might not be able to hit the waves today. It's lookin' like it might be pretty overcast soon." I peek out the window. There are indeed several rather gray clouds coming from the direction of the ocean, but I refuse to allow that to ruin my picnic.

"Good thing neither of us is scared of a little bad weather," I affirm with a grin.

"Good thing. Should we get going then?" he asks.

"S'up to you. Today is all about you," I explain. He gives his side-smile as he rolls his eyes at me.

"Okay, well, let's wake up and head out then," he offers, kissing my jaw before sitting up. We get up and go about finding wet suits and swim trunks. Once our outfits are found, we trek downstairs and I turn on the coffee pot as Zach grabs eggs and sausage from the refrigerator to make a quick breakfast. We eat it between kisses, and today has taken on a very "honeymoon" vibe that I don't mind at all. I toss the dishes in the sink saying I'll do them later. We grab our boards and carry them to Zach's car. We stow them in the back and he slams the back door shut. We settle into our seats and prepare to head to the beach, when he notices the air freshener smell. "Coconut!" he exclaims with a wide smile.

"Surprise!" I shoot back with my own self-satisfied grin. He leans over and kisses me.

"What an awesome surprise," he replies. "I love it, and you."

"I love you too," I agree as he pulls out of the driveway and we begin our perfect day.


	50. Chapter 50

We pull into the parking lot nearest Zach's bluff and determine the overcast sky won't be ruining the day, so we hit the beach running. The waves are the perfect way to expend the giddy energy that I'm still feeling. After several killer waves, I'm ready for a break but encourage Zach to continue on. Sitting at the edge of the surf, I watch him in his element. Finding a small sliver of driftwood, I use it to carve into the wet sand, creating a clumsy heart with "Z+S" inside of it. Enjoying my flight of whimsy, I add smaller hearts around the main one.

Zach approaches, board in hand, dripping salt water. He plops down next to me and views my creation with a smile.

"I'm considering returning to CalArts for a degree in sand art," I joke, trying to keep it light. He snickers.

"Good luck getting in dude. Some of those hearts look like Cody drew 'em," he assesses. He's correct and I nod my head in agreement. "Luckily for you, you've got many other, uh, wonderful qualities to fall back on," he reassures me, patting my knee. I roll my eyes. "But since my mom always taught me that it's the thought that counts, I love the sentiment," he softly smiles.

"Your mom was a very wise woman," I reply, grabbing his hand to squeeze. He nods his head and sighs.

"Yeah," he says, looking at the horizon line of the Pacific. "She was."

"Sylvia was the one who actually encouraged me to pursue writing more than anyone, except maybe my high school guidance counselor," I share with a fond grin. "And they're paid to tell you that you can do whatever your heart desires if you set your mind to it, so I kind of took her opinion a lot more seriously." The melancholy look on Zach's face melts away and he's genuinely interested, so I continue. "She uh, she was the first person I told when I got my acceptance letter."

"She was?" he asks, awed.

"Yeah, she was."

"I never knew that," he begins and rather than watching the water, he seems to be viewing his memories instead. "She always liked you though. Always. I remember she would tell me to listen to what you said and follow your instructions, even Gabe encouraged otherwise."

"I told you—wise, wise woman, Sylvia was."

"Well, those instructions ended up keeping me out of a lot of scrapes I would've joined Gabe in," he admits.

"I probably don't want to know, do I?" I chuckle. I can only imagine what Gabe wanted to do that went against things I'd said.

"Prolly not," he laughs and shakes his head.

"Hey, Babe, you got plans for lunch?" I ask, eager to get the picnic started.

"Uh, not really."

"Let's head to the car," I offer, nonchalantly. He nods his head, which has finished dripping water finally and we stand up to go. We stow the boards and change out of our wetsuits before I grab the cooler bag. "I know this great little place for lunch," I tell him with a wink. "Very exclusive. Awesome chef."

"Sounds perfect," he enthuses with a silly smile. He follows me as I hike up to the bluff. We get to Zach's straw bale and grab a seat. Instead of using the blanket to sit on, the overcast day had given the early afternoon a chill, so I use it as a lap blanket for us. I hand him a PB&J and a smile erupts across his face. "My compliments to the chef!" he laughs, taking a bite.

"Yes yes, he's amazing," I agree. "Hot too, or so I hear."

"I hear he's got a great ass."

"I hear he's got a great boyfriend," I volley back with a grin.

"It takes one to know one, Sweetheart," he concludes as he turns in for a kiss draping his arm across me to pull me closer. I grab the apples and wine from the bag and hand him the fruit as I uncork the wine. I offer the bottle to him. "No glasses?" he asks, a surprised look on his face.

"You're the one who wants to conserve water and save me from doing dishes," I explain with a wink. He takes a swig and hands it to me, then takes a bite of apple. I sip from the bottle and decide to continue our conversation from the beach.

"One of the reasons your mom appreciated having me around was that I was teaching you to surf," I explain. "Do you remember getting in the fight with Gabe when you first moved to San Pedro?" I ask. He nods. "And then shortly after, you defended Gabe and have been best of friends since." Zach continues nodding. "She was afraid you didn't have an outlet for your energy so you were using your fists instead. I uh, I actually realized you love me because of that instinct of yours." Zach turns his head toward me, confused. "You wanted to punch Rich," I elaborate. "I hadn't seen that side of you since you were a little boy. You only protected those you loved." He understands and smiles. "It was easy to say the words on the walkie-talkie at that point because I knew you felt the same, even if you didn't know yet," I conclude.

"I wonder what she'd think of…" he points to me then at himself with his apple core. I take it and hand him a cookie.

"Us?" I finish the thought. Zach nods and I think on it. "Sylvia'd seen some of my writing. It was uh, no secret to her I was gay. She had no problem with it, but I dunno if she'd want that life for her son; it can be a difficult existence. But I would hope she'd approve of me at least for her darling boy."

He thinks on that for several seconds before responding. "I uh, think she did more than approve, dude," he chuckles, shaking his head. "She must've known, uh, about me. Years before I did. She always said that I was like her—a penguin. As soon as we met our mate, that was it—no need to keep looking and together forever. It was like that for her and Dad, and I assumed she'd meant Tori since we'd been dating for so long. But now I think she was telling me I had to keep looking, you know?"

I smile at the thought of Sylvia seeing that same fierce loyalty in her young son. "But that doesn't mean she'd approve of me, for you," I butt in.

"Shaun, who do you think bought me your first book?" I look to the sky and inhale.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. I uh, hadn't put it all together until today. Didn't know she knew about you. I'd asked if she'd read your book, when she gave it to me, and all she said was, 'No, but I don't need to, hon'. Shaun's a gifted writer and a family friend, so let's support him. I'll do it by buying his books and you do it by reading them.'" My heart begins to beat a little faster at the thought of Sylvia's gentle and subtle way of encouraging her son to be true to himself. "She bought me your second one, but was too sick for the third, so I got that on my own," he says, a bittersweet note in his voice.

"Well, you'll get an author's gift copy of number four," I smile at him as he polishes off the cookie, and I'm excited for the next time he cracks open one of the books in his car to see their new ink knowing now how special they are to him.

"How's that coming along?" he enquires.

"Amazingly well, Babe."

"I'm glad." He smiles at me and kisses my jaw. I grab his face and kiss his mouth, briefly sweeping my tongue across his lips and into his mouth.

"Mmm, you taste like chocolate and peanut butter and wine," I quietly inform him after ending the kiss. He grabs my hand and squeezes it, before throwing his arm across my shoulders and kissing my neck.

"You taste like the ocean," he counters back, leaving a wet trail where my collar and skin meet. He then looks at the sky. "We should prolly head home soon."

"Let's go," I reply, finishing my cookie and stowing the trash in the cooler. Hand in hand we walk back to the car.


	51. Chapter 51

I'm surprised that Zach holds my hand the entire way to the car, even though we pass within several yards of other people. I keep waiting for him to drop it like before but he doesn't. Nobody pays us any mind and a little seed of hopefulness sprouts in my mind that this just might be the turning point for coming out as a couple. I grin, goofily and squeeze his fingers between mine as we approach the vehicle. He grins back with a questioning look in his eyes as he opens the hatch and throws the blanket in the car. I stow the cooler and slam the door closed. We hop in and drive back to the beach house.

The ride back home is relatively quiet. Zach turns the radio on and hums along with the music as I contemplate the next part of our perfect day. I wonder if he'll balk at dinner at a fancier restaurant than a diner. He looks over at me analyzing him and raises an eyebrow.

"What's up dude? You look uh, upset or something," he asks.

"Nope, just uh, wonderin,'" I begin with a slight grin.

"Oh? 'Bout what?" he asks, eyes darting back and forth between me and the road.

"I uh, was just thinking that I've never taken you out. Like on a real date." He rolls his eyes with an amused look on his face, so I continue. "Would you go on an honest-to-goodness date with me? Like dinner? At a nice restaurant?"

"Uh, I think it's a little late for that, Sweetheart. I already gave it up to you, you know," he suggestively leers at me and I laugh.

"I'm, uh, not worried about that," I choke out before calming down to finish. "I just wanna take my boyfriend out to a nice dinner. One that he didn't have to prepare himself, okay?" Zach considers it.

"If it'll make you happy," he concedes, like it's some big burden on his part. I roll my eyes.

"It will make me happy," I confirm with a pretend sigh that makes him laugh.

"Well then, for you, fine. I'll go on your fancy dinner date, even though I don't have nice clothes and I'll look like some ghetto street punk kid you felt sorry for," he jokingly bemoans.

"Like you've had any problem whatsoever borrowing my clothes," I kid back, poking his rib as he smiles. We turn into the Pacific Bluff Neighborhood, and before he pulls into the drive, I stop him. "If we're gonna do this right, let's put your car in the garage and I'll drive tonight," I offer. He shrugs his shoulders and I run inside to open the garage door for him to pull in.

We enter the house from there as I run through restaurants nearby to possibly take him to. "You go on upstairs and take a shower, and I'll join you in a bit," I urge, debating among some places I've been to over the years. Zach nods and ascends the stairs while I think. I grab my laptop to research and notice I have several emails waiting. I answer the most pressing ones and decide to make reservations at The Sky Room, which has a gorgeous art deco style I'm sure he'll appreciate. I call the restaurant and reserve our table for a couple hours from now as I continue to finish up my online correspondence. I get lost in thought and open up the novel to add some details that had been on my mind.

At some point I'm fully immersed in the book's universe and Zach skipping downstairs in just a towel startles me and brings me back to reality. "Dude, I waited for you…" he says with his hands on his hips looking delicious.

"Sorry Babe, I got distracted," I explain, gesturing to the laptop. "I'll come up now," I offer with a grin.

"I used most of the hot water," he warns as I save the file then shut the computer and approach him on the stairs. From a couple steps below him, I'm now shorter than Zach instead of the inch or two taller than I normally am.

"That's probably for the best," I lament, running a finger along his abs down to his belly button, which is just above the towel's edge. "We don't have time to play if we're gonna make our reservation," I explain as I kiss his chin. He shakes his head as I smile. I step up one and we're basically the same height. I lean in and kiss his lips. His mouth is minty fresh instead of tasting like our picnic. His hands grip my face and pull me closer as he deepens the kiss. I grab his waist as his tongue invades my mouth. We kiss for several minutes before I pull away. "Yeah, a cold shower. That's what I need now," I sigh. "You figure out what to wear while I bathe. The website calls for 'casual elegance' so if you can find stuff for me too, that would be perfect." I put the burden of defining what that means exactly squarely on his creative shoulders, convinced he can find something for the both of us to wear.

"Okay, but you gotta wear what I pick," he replies with a suspiciously helpful attitude. I run through my clothes in my mind and can't think of anything too crazy he could come up with or create in the short amount of time I'll be in the shower so I nod in agreement. He grins and I'm sure he knows something I don't.

"Deal," I agree with a grin of my own. "Just keep in mind, you've gotta be seen with me," I warn, drawing my hands from his hips across to where the towel is knotted. I then slip my fingers into the knot and pull it apart, dropping the towel. I smack his ass as I bound up the stairs laughing.

I take a relatively cool shower by myself and regret getting caught up on the computer rather than joining Zach. I hurriedly finish washing up and get out, eager to dry off start our date. I brush my teeth and put on cologne as I hear him moving about in my room. Eager to see what his interpretation of "casual elegance" is, I enter the bedroom. _Damn_. Zach is wearing my tan-colored shirt with a gray and white design covering most of the top of it. That shirt holds a very special place in my heart, having been what I was wearing the night Zach first came over ready to get physical. I remember how he ripped it off me that night and threw it on the stairs, desperate for skin-on-skin contact. Along with the shirt, he's sporting a pair of charcoal-colored dress slacks and a matching blazer. The shirt is tucked in, and a simple black belt and dress shoes make him look great. His silver necklace, which usually resides inside his shirt, is out and along with his ring the understated jewelry finish off the look.

"You look…hot." Zach blushes slightly and looks away.

"It's okay, even with a t-shirt?" he asks, finally making eye contact.

"Babe, we're in California, which is casual, and you make that shirt look elegant. So yeah, it's okay," I affirm and he exhales. I'm anxious to see what he came up with for me. He gestures to the bench next to my closet. Lying across it is something I had completely forgotten about that he must have searched for to find considering I'd stuffed it in the furthermost corner: a garish orange button up that Gabe had given me about 5 years ago. It's a shiny fabric with a diamond pattern in gray, and I've actually never worn it. I groan. "Are you kidding me? Gabe got that for me as a joke! I can't wear that!" I exclaim with a grimace.

"You promised…" he replies with a long face and I can't deny him. I sigh, resigned to the fact that I'll look ridiculous.

"You're right. And you'll have to be seen with me, so if you're cool with it, I guess I'll have to be too," I finish, caressing his cheek.

"Have a little faith in me Sweetheart," he replies with a smile. I look at the other things he set out on the bench: a gray undershirt and khaki slacks. A pair of brown loafers sits on the ground. I consider the outfit as a whole and the muted colors he included should calm down the bright orange. Relieved, I gather the clothes and begin to dress as Zach heads into the bathroom to finish grooming.

I put on everything and look in the mirror. I don't look half bad, though it's a bit flashier than I normally would wear. Zach comes out with slightly gelled hair, looking even hotter, and unbuttons my shirt a bit so the undershirt peeks out. "There," he states, satisfied with what he sees. The gray cuts the vivid orange even more and I begin to think I look pretty hot too.

"Student seems to have an eye for fashion," I joke, honestly impressed with what he came up with.

"Student realized he can't rely on Master's penchant for plaid and playing dress-up if he wants to look good," he smiles, kissing my chin. I laugh and roll my eyes.

"Ready to go?"

"Yep."

"Let's do it." I grab my wallet and phone and we go back downstairs where I grab my keys. Entering the garage, we get into my car and head out on our first official "date."


	52. Chapter 52

I pull out of the driveway and Zach is nervously wiping his hands along his legs to his knees. "Are you sure I look okay?" he blurts out. I chuckle and shake my head at his fears.

"You look amazing. Hot. Gorgeous. Beautiful even! Don't worry, okay?" I assure him, shifting my vision slightly off the road to see if my mini pep-talk helped. _How can he not know how good he looks? _He still looks unsure, so I continue. "Babe, if anyone should be nervous, it's me—I look like a freakin' pumpkin." This gets his attention because he darts his head up to look at me.

"Uh, no you don't. And if you hate that shirt so much, why do you even have it?" his inquisitive eyes meet mine and I consider the question.

"Because it was a gift from Gabe. A sort of peace offering. He'd uh, found some, um, _videos_ on my computer that confirmed that I was gay and kind of freaked out for a bit. Within a few days he'd calmed down, and gave me the shirt as a show of solidarity and support. Apparently he thinks that shiny bright, tight shirts are what all gay men wear so to show me that he was cool with it, he went out and got it for me." Zach is giggling and I'm glad I've taken his mind away from being nervous so I continue. "Whenever I get upset with him, I imagine him at the department store or God-knows-where he bought it, being totally uncomfortable picking it out and assuring everyone who'd listen that it was 'for his brother.'" His giggles are barks of laughter at this point. "Why he thought to that my style would change, I have no clue. But almost every time I see him, he asks if I've worn it 'out to the clubs yet' and I don't have the heart to tell him it's not my style and neither are 'the clubs.'" At this point I'm laughing as well. "Now if he asks, I can at least say I wore it," I smile. Zach has calmed down and looks at ease.

"Well, you look good—it's not as bad as you think," he assures me.

"Thanks Babe. I'm not worried anymore. You're the artist, and if you say I look okay, I believe you." He smiles his sexy half-smile and I focus back on the road. "I uh, wonder what kind of shirt Gabe would get you to show you he's cool with it," I carefully broach the subject. Zach thinks for a minute.

"Well, he knows I'm not really into dress up the way you are Mr. Robe-and-Bubble-Pipe, so it probably wouldn't be clothes," he continues considering. "Oh God. Probably a big rainbow surfboard." I begin to laugh again, imagining Gabe trying to order it.

"Nah, too much work. That's a custom job right there. I look at the ring on his finger and consider the bracelets Zach always wears. Spirit beads. He'd probably get you spirit beads," I offer. Zach looks confused. "Those bracelets or necklaces with the rainbow colored rings or beads," I explain. The look on his face as he considers it is hilarious, and I'm more excited he's taking into account the ramifications of telling my brother about us. "At least you can hide a bracelet," I mumble as we pull into the restaurant's parking area. I drive up to valet as he considers that.

We get out of the car, and I remember that everything I'd packed at Rich's is still in the back. I gesture for Zach to go ahead and tell the valet I need to grab something. In one of the bags I'd stowed stuff from the top of the dresser is a bracelet I wore maybe twice. It's mainly black and has very subtle and small colored beads in just one section. I find it in the bag and shove it in my pocket. Telling the valet he's good to go, I give him my keys and return to Zach, who's waiting for me at the entrance.

We enter the Sky Room and I know I made the perfect choice. Zach is in awe of the room's design and art deco features. He's looking at the windows as I check in for our reservation and I smile as I have to keep my hand at his back to help guide him to his seat because he's paying more attention to the walls than where he's going.

We're seated and Zach's still observing his surroundings; now he's checking out the other diners. The waiter comes by and I order a bottle of Champagne to start off, hoping he realizes he's dressed on par with everyone else here. Zach finally finishes assessing the room and looks at me. "Well?" I ask, curious about what's going on inside his head.

"It's beautiful. Wow." He glances down at the menu but before he can say anything, I interject.

"We are celebrating tonight and not worrying about anything beyond having a good time." Understanding what I mean, Zach nods his head and begins looking at the selection rather than the prices. The Champagne arrives and the waiter fills two glasses. I lift mine to Zach and he grabs his to clink together. I think of what to cheers about and smile. "To Gabe, my unwitting brother who means well and is of the utmost importance to both of us!" Zach smiles and takes a sip.

"This is good!" he enthuses and it makes me so giddy that he's enjoying himself and not worrying. I debate talking about moving in but decide tomorrow's still better. He continues perusing the menu. "I have no clue what half this stuff is," he softly admits, flushing.

"S'okay Babe, I'm sure it all tastes good. Certainly better than some sandy PBJs."

"Hey I liked your picnic lunch!" he defends my non-cooking and I marvel at how much I love this man.

"And I like taking you out," I reply as the waiter approaches. Zach begins to look panicked and takes an unmistakably-nervous gulp of his Champagne. "We'll start with lobster mac and cheese," I inform him, picking something I know Zach's familiar with. The waiter leaves and I smile. "How about we decide what to order now so we're good when he comes back?" I offer, taking a sip of my drink to keep up with him.

"Uh okay. I like steak…?" he offers. There are a few options so we debate on them as I fill our empty glasses. We decide on what kind of steak he wants as I set the almost-empty bottle back in the bucket. "To Cody," he says as the appetizer arrives. I smile, remembering Cody's dinner order that night Zach brought him over and how I didn't have any of that stuff in the house. Now I have a kitchen stocked with things like macaroni and cheese for five year old visitors.

"He'll have the prime rib, medium, and I'll have the filet mignon, also medium," I inform our waiter, who politely nods. "And another bottle, please," I gesture to the bucket. He nods again and leaves. We enjoy the first course and finish off the Champagne. The alcohol has loosened Zach up a bit and I'm glad to see him enjoying himself rather than being intimidated or nervous. "Hey, I have something for you," I begin as I grab the bracelet from my pocket. "It's uh, more your style than what Gabe would potentially get you, and I never wear it, so I thought it would look nice with your other bracelets," I lamely offer and wonder if I sound like as big a dork to him as I do to myself.

"Oh," he replies, looking at the bracelet in my hand. _He hates it._ "That's so…" I wait for him to tease me, "…awesome. I love it Sweetheart," he smiles. "Did you have this with you the whole time?" he asks as he presents his wrist to me. I begin fastening it among the other bracelets on his wrist. It looks fine and not garish or tacky with all the other bright colors residing there.

"No, I had it in a bag I'd packed in LA. I remembered it when we talked about Gabe so I grabbed it at the valet. I uh, never wear it so I thought you might get some more use out of it."

"Now I'll always have something of yours on me," he softly says. I should have known my boyfriend who loves branding me would be completely charmed by the idea of something on him day and night saying he's mine.

"I love you."

"Love you too."

The waiter interrupts our declarations with a new bottle of bubbly. He uncorks it and refills our glasses before beating a hasty exit. Zach chooses what we toast again.

"To love."

"To love," I concur, reveling in the day's perfection.

Dinner arrives and we dig in, enjoying the food and the ambiance and the conversation and the Champagne. Zach has totally loosened up and more physically demonstrative than normal, squeezing my hand and scooting his seat a bit closer. I'm feeling a pretty good buzz too as we order dessert, which comes with a wine pairing. Wanting to continue the fun evening, I decide to enjoy the wine and have a taxi take us home later.

After dessert, the bill arrives, and I pay it, silently thanking Larry again. As we approach the hostess stand, Zach is holding my hand and I can barely concentrate as I ask her to call us a cab. We head outside and I get my house key from the valet, assuring them I'll be by tomorrow to pick up my vehicle.

"Let's go home Sweetheart," he whispers in my ear. Tipsy Zach makes me grin.

"You got it Babe," I whisper back as the taxi approaches.


	53. Chapter 53

Zach climbs into the back of the cab first, and I follow, settling in the back passenger side. Upon fastening my seat belt, Zach scoots over from behind the driver to the middle seat and secures his belt. As I give the cabbie my address, Zach's hand wanders from the buckle to my hip, and slides up under my shirt. Suddenly, remembering an address that I've known a good portion of my life seems impossible. I pause to concentrate on what I'm saying and not Zach's cool fingers stroking along the waistband of my pants. The words stumble out of my mouth and the driver nods. I'm grateful that it's dark and he can't see my boyfriend getting handsy in the backseat. Zach's got an impish grin on his face and I decide I like him very much when he's on a Champagne high.

Grateful the taxi driver's not the chatty type, I lean back and throw my left arm across the back of the seat as he turns up the radio and pulls out of the parking lot. Zach nestles his head where my shoulder and arm meet. I rest my head on his and enjoy the quiet for a few minutes while his fingers draw across my abdomen. Eventually his hand leaves from under my shirt and finds a place on my left thigh. I take my right hand and mindlessly run my fingers over his. I continue beyond his knuckles and over the back of his hand to his bracelets, using my index finger to run across the beads of the one I just gave him. Zach peeks up at me and smiles, then flips my hand over and clasps it between both of his. He runs his fingers along the lines of my palm.

"Divining the future?" I murmur as he moves from my palm and intently inspects my fingers. He runs a zigzag down my pinkie and it sends shivers down my spine. He does it again and I begin to squirm. Zach lifts himself up a bit and pulls out one of the ubiquitous Sharpie markers he's always got stashed in his pockets. It's red, of course. Uncapping it, he looks up at me, and I'm curious to see what my little artist has in mind, so I nod. Taking my smallest finger and bringing it closer to see in the dark, Zach sketches out the design his finger had drawn.

"Future, past, destiny. Red thread," he whispers with a grin. I look down at my hand to find a stylized 'Z' drawn across my finger. Zach then inks an almost-mirror image on his left pinkie, forming an 'S' on his. Then he grabs my pinkie between his and his ring finger, and the top of my Z meets the bottom of his S and both letters bump in their middles, forming a slightly misshapen heart. I swallow at how cute he's being, and he gives me a goofy lopsided grin before settling back into my arm.

I contemplate the perfect day as we pull into the neighborhood. Today couldn't have been better if I'd written it into a story and had complete control of the plot and dialog. I look down at who made my day so fantastic, to see he's fallen asleep. Okay, so it might be slightly better if he wasn't drowsy and half-drunk, but even like this, he's the most beautiful person I've ever seen. And he's clearly getting comfortable with physical affection in public. I wonder how much longer it will be until he's ready to reveal us as a couple to Gabe and Jeanne. I'm glad I've been patient about this, because he is so completely worth it. As we pull into the drive, for the first time in a long time, I feel absolutely content.

"Babe, time to wake up," I quietly sigh into Zach's ear. He lethargically peeks one eye open then blinks them both, realizing where he is and where we've arrived.

"Uh, sorry. Sorry 'bout that," he says as I thank and pay the cabbie.

"No worries," I assure him, wrapping my arm around him and pulling him closer as the taxi backs out of the drive. "It's been a long day." Arm-in-arm, we approach the front door, and I pull out my key to unlock the door as he releases a big yawn. We enter the house and maneuver in the dark toward the stairs. We trudge up the steps to my room, and I turn the light on in the bathroom but leave the bedroom light off. Zach plops down on the bed and sighs as he leans back on the mattress, throwing his hands above his head and then yawns. I kick off my shoes and unbutton my pants, stepping out of them as I unbutton the dress shirt and then toss it on the arm of the bench just outside my bathroom. I look over at him as I pull the undershirt off and toss it on my jeans as I notice his eyes are closed. I sign and walk over to my sleepy beau. Gently shaking his shoulder I whisper to him. "Babe, let's get your clothes off before you go to sleep."

Begrudgingly, Zach opens his eyes and sits up. I help him out of the jacket and hang it in my closet as he tosses my shirt to the pile I started on the floor. I grab the shoes and pull them off while he unbuttons his pants and scoots himself up into the bed and out of them. Tossing them across the room, I decide to run downstairs for water in case Mr. Champagne needs it in the morning.

I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and as I shut the door, I notice some sand fall off Cody's art work hanging there. I look at it and smile, deciding I definitely want to hang it at my new place; I carefully take it down and stash it in a folder with my paperwork to keep it safe. I grab a wine glass and half-empty bottle of red for myself and head back upstairs. Zach is fully asleep and looks adorable. I set the water next to him then crawl into my bed, pouring myself a glass and setting the bottle on my nightstand. I swirl the wine around a bit before taking a sip, making the decision to talk to Zach about the future first thing in the morning. I polish off the rest of the wine and settle in next to him. Zach cuddles closer in his sleep, and I look at my pinkie and smile at the red string Z, just another way he's marked me. Eventually I drift off to sleep.

The next morning arrives and I wake up in the best mood. Looking over, I see Zach is just starting to become alert. I turn in toward him and smile as he opens his eyes.

"Mornin' Sweetheart," he mumbles as he blinks and licks his lips. I gesture to the water near him. "Thanks," he says, uncapping it and taking several sips. He notices the red marking on his finger as he tips the bottle back. He looks at it then at me with a questioning look. I chuckle.

"Red threads," I explain, showing him mine and then how they make a heart.

"Oh God, I'm such a dork!" he exclaims, shaking his head.

"I thought it was cute. You're a-dork-able, Babe." Zach rolls his eyes but turns in to me and smiles, briefly running his fingers across my chest. Suddenly he looks serious.

"Are you gonna head back up to LA soon?" he quietly asks. I inhale, not quite ready to begin talking about what's to come, and what I want our future to look like.

"I'm pretty happy here," I offer, with a smile, looking at him.

"Yeah," he whispers, slightly nodding. Now's the time.

"Hey, why don't you come with me?" I offer.

"Yeah, right," he scoffs.

"I'm serious," I smile, picturing it in my head. "I'll live right near CalArts," I continue, mentally admitting that I'll actually live right near a freeway that takes you to CalArts in less than 20 minutes, which in LA is basically living 'right near' something. He adjusts a bit and I can tell he's thinking. I caress his cheek with the back of my fingers. "You're so beautiful," I tell him, more sincerely. He grins and playfully punches my shoulder.

"Shut up," he instructs with a laugh in his voice, not taking me seriously at all.

"Hey, learn to take a compliment," I reply, and I'm more solemn when I tell him this than I normally am, so he can see I mean it. He blinks several times, then brings his hand to my face and strokes it. I clasp his hand in mine for a second.

"Thanks," he whispers, a shy smile lighting up his face.

"I'm so glad you're here," I reply.

"Me too," he agrees.

I gather my thoughts and prepare to launch into my spiel about wanting him to always be 'here' wherever I am, and just as I open my mouth, a door downstairs slams shut.


	54. Chapter 54

"Yo, bro, whadaya know?" Gabe hails from downstairs. My baby brother has arrived with impeccable timing.

"Gabe!" Zach gasps. The color drains from his face and all thoughts of The Talk flee my head as I try to think of what needs to be done in the next 30 seconds if we don't want Gabe to find out about our relationship by seeing it first-hand. Being the writer, the appropriate word comes to mind, of course.

"Fuck!" I reply in the heat of the moment. We jump out of bed and I rush to lock the door as Zach grabs a few of his things and tosses them around the corner out of sight.

"Come on, come on," he urges quietly. I rush back and grab anything that doesn't _look_ like it would belong to me to my very observant brother, to have it join Zach's pile. "Hurry hurry, go," he continues and I can tell he is freaking out.

"Shauny-poo, your little brother Gabe's back!" the voice from the other side of the door taunts as it gets closer. I can hear him running up the stairs.

"Fuck!" I mutter under my breath as I stash the rest of what I can away from Gabe's immediate eyesight when he eventually enters the room. Zach hides behind the corner with his stuff, partially throwing on the shirt he wore last night as I hear my brother approach the door. I see my gray undershirt from last night and struggle to put it on, looking around for pajama bottoms with no luck. I do a final check on Zach who has half the shirt on and seems to be focusing on his breathing

"Where's my princess big brother?" Gabe cheerfully chimes through the wood as he unsuccessfully attempts to open the door. Realizing it's locked, be begins knocking while making conclusions that aren't far from the truth. "What, have you got a guy in there, you slut?!"

"No!" I bark out, approaching the door and trying to sound like he'd just woken me up.

"Ooohh, a girl?!" I roll my eyes and open the door to my brother as his best friend hides. This would make a great scene in movie, but sucks in real life.

"Yeah right! Like I got a girl in here, please," I scoff, wiping my face to continue the illusion I'd be been startled from sleep by his arrival.

"Did I interrupt your beating off, or what?" he asks, ever the classy fellow.

"No I was sleepin,' Jesus"

"Sleeping?" he asks skeptically as he grabs my shoulders. "With the door locked? Okay weirdo." As usual, Gabe notices too much. He begins in the general direction Zach's hiding and I grab him in an attempt to distract him.

"No, hey, come here dude!" I grasp him in a hug as Zach peeks around the corner. The cuddly boy from my bed is gone and replaced by a spooked out half-dressed dude. I'm suddenly grateful to know his car is hidden in the garage where Gabe wouldn't have seen it, as he usually gets dropped off by buddies and grabs the key out of the planter.

" Good to see you too, bro," he pats my back and grunts, and I hope I'm not being obviously awkward as I gesture toward the door to my boyfriend hoping he can sneak out. If I have to, I'll keep baby brother in this bear hug all day.

"I missed you so much," I reply, forcefully patting him while I grunt back.

"There it is, yeah," he agrees looking at me like I'm a freak. I grab his face and growl and realize I did miss him. Gabe disentangles himself from my grasp and throws himself on my bed, having no idea that he's lying among the blankets and sheets on the bed I just recently was cuddling with Zach in. _Get off my bed—you're tainting it!_ My inner drama queen roars to life while Gabe doesn't realize anything's amiss and continues his brotherly interrogation. "Dude, so what are you doing here man? I thought you were moving into your new place this week." The idea of giving Gabe a calendar as a gift suddenly loses all appeal if he's going to keep this good of track on dates. I mentally take note to inform Zach that not even the world's most boring calendar should be given to my astute brother.

"No, no. The thought of…moving into an empty place is just depressing, you know?" The words stumble out of my mouth as I try to listen for Zach to make his escape. I look at the bench and notice a pair of Zach's boxers peeking out from under a towel lying on it. I grab another towel from the floor and nonchalantly throw it over them before Gabe can see something I don't wear sitting there.

"Yeah? Well it's pretty empty here," Gabe informs me of the obvious. _Why can't you be high right now?_ I wonder, then feel bad for wishing my brother any sort of impairment, even a temporary one. "You doing alright?"

"Yeah, I'm good," is all I can come up with.

" You sure?" he asks, not convinced.

"Mmm-hmm!"

"I heard it was pretty tough there for a while," he offers with sympathy. I am not ready for a heart-to-heart with my little brother but I don't want to be any more off than normal to him, so I decide to just go with whatever he's saying.

"Yeah, it was…tough."

"Well don't worry, Romeo. You'll find a new one," he uses my own words of brotherly wisdom on me.

"Yeah, thanks," I reply.

"So, you ready to hang up your pink Gucci suit and come paddle out with your real friends?" Surfing. Of course. Surfing I can do and the physicality of it will mean less questions from Gabe.

"Yeah, okay," I agree, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

"Right on, I'll call Zach," he confirms, and I pray the man in question has made it out and is long gone before that happens and his cell phone starts ringing from inside the house.

"Ok, good. Yeah, give him a call." I think I can hear the garage door closing, but it's very faint.

"Uh, what was that?" Gabe must have heard it too. _Shit_.

"June's probably cleaning today," I mutter, not very convincingly.

"But uh, June comes on Tuesdays…" he argues, and I am done even trying to lie at this point.

"Yes she does. Pool guy? I dunno." I try laughing and just hope he joins me. He does, but can tell something's not right. At least Zach's made his getaway. Subterfuge has never been my thing, and the last few minutes have me seriously stressed out. Gabe has clearly picked up on this fact.

"You ok?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah? You look a bit freaked out."

"No, I'm just tired," I say, hoping he'll accept it at face value.

"Alright." I can't tell if he's buying it, but at this point, I don't even care.

"Just tired."

"Is there anything good to eat in the fridge or did you stock it with low-carb fag food? I'm fucking starving man." _Well, baby brother, it's stocked because your best friend and I went shopping, so I guess that makes it fag food._

"Just a lot of fag food." Well, that went well. At least I got through it. I take a few minutes to calm down and regroup and find PJ bottoms on before joining my brother downstairs. Gabe's got the fridge open and is considering his food options. I'm suddenly very glad I'd moved Cody's sand art last night.

"Whoa, bro, you've been shopping," he pokes his head out and nods at me with a smile. I nod back but say nothing. "Have you started cooking?" he asks, and his inquisitive nature, which I've always appreciated before, is really starting to get on my nerves. This is what I get for trying to hide something from someone whose main priority growing up was knowing everything about me.

"Uh, yeah. A little bit," I try to pass it off as I look around for any other evidence that I've been essentially playing house with his best friend for the past few weeks. Nothing immediately catches my eye, and I begin breathing normally again.

After finishing assessing the fridge, he closes it with just a bottle of water in hand. "Will you take me to Pacific Diner, dude?" he requests off-handedly.

"Uh, sure," I reply, but since I shouldn't know that's where Zach works and has a shift soon, I continue. "Couldn't find anything to eat here?"

"Nah, well, yeah. Zach is prolly working there 'cause he didn't answer when I called. Figured I'd stop in to invite him, and grab a bite maybe," he replies, removing the cap off the bottle and taking a swig. I remember where I left my car last night.

"Oh okay, but we'll have to cab it to my car. I uh, left it somewhere last night…" I trail off, hoping he doesn't ask too many questions.

"Did Shauny go out partying last night? I thought I saw the shirt I got you!" he exclaims and I am glad I covered the boxers if he noticed the orange shirt a foot away from them.

"Uh, yeah," I confirm and feel my cheeks getting warm. _Now is _not_ the time to be blushing, Andrews!_ Gabe smiles but for once keeps his inappropriate thoughts to himself, and for that I'm grateful.

"Right on! Glad to hear it bro!" he enthusiastically pats my shoulder, and Gabe's genuine enthusiasm upon hearing this makes me feel like a jerk.

"I'll, uh, go get dressed and call us a cab I guess."

"Coolio. Thanks man. It's good to see you," he says with a grin while leaning on the counter. I smile and pat his beanie-covered head.

"It's good to see you too baby brother," I reply with a smile. My eyes sweep over the kitchen one last time and I can't see anything that screams "I've been fucking your best friend!" so I head upstairs to change.


	55. Chapter 55

"**Do not ask the name of the person who seeks a bed for the night. He who is reluctant to give his name is the one who most needs shelter."**

** Victor Hugo, French Novelist**

Entering my room, I do a visual inventory for any evidence I've been essentially playing house with Gabe's blood-brother over the past few weeks. I throw a pair of Zach's sneakers in the back of my closet, and stuff his boxers from the bench under a bunch of my clothes in the laundry hamper. The walkie-talkie is peeking out from its usual resting place between my bed and nightstand. I gently kick it further back so it's hidden completely under the bed. Nothing else seems amiss, so I grab my wallet and key out of last night's pants and get dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt with some flip flops. I jog downstairs where Gabe is watching TV.

"Ready?" he asks, turning down the volume on the _SpongeBob_ episode that's playing on the screen.

"Yep," I confirm. "I'll call the cab."

"Cool cool." He turns off the set and we head outside. He heads in the direction of the where the surf boards are stashed and begins inspecting them. "So what have you been doing here all this time bro?" he asks, pulling one out that needs a bit of repair work at the end and setting it up on a couple of sawhorses we store for that specific reason.

"Writing. I got more done these past few weeks than the past year. The muse is back with a vengeance!" I explain.

"And going out, finally, right?" he interrogates, grabbing the repair kit from the small chest of surf supplies set up nearby and sanding down a ding in the board.

"And going out," I confirm. "Tony came by. That was fun," I inform him, happy to be able to truthfully explain one night out. Gabe nods but doesn't say anything for several seconds. I use the time to call the cab company and schedule a pick-up. I hang up and shove my phone in my pocket as his questions start back up.

"Meet anyone special?" he asks as he applies the resin, all wide-eyed and innocent. I'm impressed as his repair skills and can't decide if he's genuinely just curious (he thinks everyone should get laid as often as he does, so it's not impossible that he's just encouraging me to get out there and get some), or thinks something's up. I play along with his assumption that most gay men go out and party hard every night of the week and find lots of random, anonymous sex.

"Oh you know, I met a few people," I vaguely admit.

"That's good, Shauny. Anyone you wanna tell me about?" I shake my head after pretending to think about it for a second. He finishes up his repair job and it looks good. "This should be fine tomorrow or so," he says, patting the board, then looking at me. "Okay, well, I'm having a buncha my peeps over tonight, if you wanna invite anyone…" he fades off as my cell phone rings. I answer and the cabbie announces his arrival.

"Ride's here," I inform him.

"Awesome. I can't wait to see Zach! Wanna make sure he's okay," he confides, and I exhale because if he's worried about his best friend that means he hasn't realize something's going on. It must be my guilt that's got me a bit jumpy and thinking he's caught on and is stringing me along before confronting me for turning his best friend.

Getting into the car, I give the taxi driver the crossroads of the Sky Room without mentioning it specifically, hoping that I won't have to explain why it's at such a fancy restaurant. For once this morning, Gabe isn't paying attention to me; he's focused on his phone inviting his crowd over tonight, I imagine. I run scenarios through my head where I could get out of attending my brother's soiree although I'm sure Zach will be there. I know he usually would spend the night after partying with Gabe and company, and assume he still does. Could he sneak away when everyone's passed out? I consider a booking a hotel and the idea of getting busy with Zach in a rented room seems like a total turn on. This evening has possibilities all of the sudden and I smile.

The cab pulls up to the corner and I jump out and pay the man. Gabe's more slow to get out. "Oh yeah, Cherie's coming—in more ways than one!" he exclaims. I can only roll my eyes as his double entendre. He's shaking his pelvis around like a fool and I can't help but laugh. If he's busy with this Cherie, that leaves Zach to his own devices later tonight. I go up to the valet as he's still on his phone, and am able to get my car back without him even paying attention to where we're at. I give the valet a big tip and climb in. Gabe slides in and we drive in the general direction of Pacific Diner.

About halfway there, I realize I shouldn't be too familiar with the place and ask for cross-streets. Gabe distractedly gives me directions and I begin to fear that he's inviting his entire high school graduating class. _Oh well,_ I decide. _Let him have his fun. The more people there, the less my and Zach's absence will be noticed._

A few streets from the diner, I decide to swing by and see if Zach's mural has progressed. I slow down as we pass the liquor store and I almost hit the car in front of me. It's _amazing_. Where it was an explosion of roads or arms when I last saw it, there's now structures and movement and excitement coursing through it. The industrial buildings are there, and red. _Red_ threading through the entire thing, including a huge heart with the word "Love." And that's all I can see before I have to pull forward and leave it. I can barely breathe. I calm down as we pull into the Pacific's parking lot.

"I, uh, gotta run an errand real quick," I tell Gabe as he grabs the door handle.

"In San Pedro?" he shoots back. I nod. "Okay weirdo," he replies looking at the sky. I sigh. I have to inspect the mural better and it's probably not a good idea to surprise Zach right now anyway.

"I'll be back in 15. Call me if you need me sooner or wanna stick around," I instruct my baby brother, just like old times.

"Yeah yeah," he flippantly replies with a grin before heading inside.

I drive back to the mural and park. Getting out to inspect it better, I grab my camera out of the back, grateful again I hadn't unloaded my car. I take a few shots from a distance, then approach it, stopping a few feet away to admire the intricate details and printed industrial scenes he'd adhered to the wall then painted over to bring the whole thing together into a cohesive amazing art work. I take more photos of various angles. I zoom in on specific parts and capture them, before plopping down in front of it and just absorbing the work. Several minutes later, I recognize the Pacific Diner in the piece and snap out of my viewing bliss remembering I need to go get Gabe. I take a few more photos and get in the car to head back, giddy that I had the opportunity to see Zach's work on a bigger scale than his small quick tags.

I pull up to Gabe on the corner. He jumps in and gives me a high five. "We're good to go, bro. Zach'll be by around 5 for the surf sesh, then we'll party hard," he grins.

"About that, I dunno if you'll want your ol' brother there…" I begin. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "But I'll be happy to go surfing, and how about we'll see about how tonight goes?" I offer. Gabe sighs.

"I said you could invite people," he begins.

"I know, and…I'm grateful. I just have been, anti-social while I've been staying here," I explain. "I haven't seen many people 'cause I've been working, you know?"

"Yeah. Zach too," he replies. My heart drops. _What happened at the diner? _"Everyone I've been texting says they haven't seen him all summer," he explains and I begin to breathe again. "He seemed a bit weird when I just saw him. Guess he's still not over Tori," he shrugs.

"Those things are tough," is really all I can come up with. I swallow, exhausted from the deception_. How long can this go on?_ I wonder.

"Didja get what you needed to take care of done?" he replies, not seeming all that curious.

"Yeah." We head back to Long Beach. By the time we pull into the driveway, I'm tired. "I'm gonna go take a nap before we hit the beach," I explain, and start up the stairs.

"You do that old man," Gabe agrees as I reach the top step.

I head into my room and pull off my jeans before crawling into bed and fall instantly asleep. When I wake up, it's to the sound of Gabe rifling around in my bathroom. Within a minute he pops out and sees that I'm awake.

"Uh, didn't remember to bring any condoms," he explains with a grin. I roll my eyes. "Dude I sent you some. Figured you'd keep 'em in here," he says, pointing into the bathroom. I open the drawer and pull out a handful and toss them his way. "Thanks bro," he laughs, bending over to pick them up from the floor. "Now I know where to go when I burn through these," he smiles.

"Stay outta my stuff, Gabe," I warn, feeling like my teenage-self again. His phone rings, so he opens it to answer as he leaves my room.

"Yeah dude, we can meet you there," I hear him tell the person at the other end of the line. "Nah, just me and Shaun." He turns around and mouths 'Zach' to me. "Cool dude, yeah, your board I fixed won't be ready yet but there are other ones… oh, you have yours. Cool. See you soon." He hangs up and looks back at me. "We gotta roll out. Meeting Zach there," he explains. I get up and gather my surf stuff, anxious to see Zach and make sure he's okay.


	56. Chapter 56

We load up my vehicle, which with my stuff, 2 boards, and a cooler-full of beer, is pretty full. Gabe instructs me on where we're going and I begin to drive in the direction of that beach.

"So, how's school?" I ask, hoping to catch up on his life and focus some attention on him.

"Oh, you know, same ol' same ol'," he counters back. "You get much surfing under your belt while here?" he asks, flicking the air freshener dangling from my rearview mirror. "I see you grabbed your longboard for today, so I'm assuming that's a negative there, Old Man," he grins as I roll my eyes.

"Oh, a bit," I reply shaking my head at his prejudice at longboard-riding. "So, you taking any cool classes? How are things in Santa Barbra?"

"Just business ones this semester. I blow off half the classes and still pass. SB's fine. Few more semesters and I'll be back here, working for Larry, living the good life."

"And that's what you wanna do, with your life I mean?" I ask. Gabe's never had an obvious talent or burning passion like my writing or Zach's art. I worry that he's following Larry's lead because it's easy, and I hope for more for him than that.

"I'm not like you bro. I don't live to do the work I love. I'll be fine working to pay for the life I love," he explains, pulling a joint out of his bag. His words make sense; I forget how wise he sometimes is. "Plant me near a beach, a job with a lenient drug testing policy, plenty of friends and I'll be happy," he clarifies, lighting the joint as he cracks the window, ever the California surfer dude. I'm not exactly happy he's doing this in my car, but don't care enough to say anything. "What about you, Shauny-Poo? You say the muse is back. The writing: is it good? Makes you happy?" I think about it.

Yeah, it…does, and it's good. My best so far," I admit, thinking of the inspiration and smiling.

"That's awesome man," he encourages, after exhaling. "What's it about?" _How do I answer?_

"Well, I've been working on a few scripts…" I trail off lamely.

"Ahh, but that's not your bliss dude," he catches me. _Fuck!_ "That's not the reason you smiled just now, a script," he scoffs, "Someone else's story. 'Fess up big brother," he wheedles.

"It's uh, probably a little too, um, _autobiographical_ for your comfort level G," I warn. He knows the generalities about my fiction, and I'm happy having it stay that way.

"Gotcha my man," he replies, dropping the subject as we turn into the parking lot near the secluded beach we're meeting Zach at. I see his Jimmy parked already, but he appears to have already hit the beach. Gabe taps out his joint and wraps the rest of it in a baggie, returning it to his backpack and we hop out. As we pull out our gear, the giddy feeling in my stomach that has been a constant the past couple days returns with the idea of seeing Zach again, even after just these few hours. I have so much to say—I _always_ have so much to share with him. I want to tell him my thoughts on the mural, and warn him about Gabe's questions, and find out what happened at the diner, and…just be with him. Suddenly having to share Zach with his best friend sucks.

It's not like I wasn't fully aware and appreciative, and even protective of their friendship, but Gabe barely dented our little bubble since that night on the double chaise, and I don't like that I'm all of the sudden feeling a little jealous that Zach's attention will be divided right now. I roll my eyes at my how ridiculous I'm being. Scanning the surf, I see Zach on the horizon and point him out to Gabe. Before he returns to the shore, I take off in search of my own wave in an effort to clear my head.

As I paddle out, I evaluate the immature moment I'd just had. I'm an adult and have never had a problem sharing, and I've certainly never begrudged a partner his friendships. Is it sharing with Gabe that has me worried? When our relationship was so brand new, and to be honest, it still is, so I guess I should rephrase that. Before I realized how important Zach would become to me, I told him that their friendship and our relationship wouldn't affect each other. _And they won't_, I assure myself.

I jump up as board meets wave. I have no problem "sharing" Zach with Cody. None. I realize I crave "adult time" with Zach when the Ankle-Biter is around, but I haven't once been bitter that Cody is and always will be significant to his uncle. I sigh, relieved that I'm not turning into a needy jealous boyfriend. I remember my little freak out when I considered Gabe and Zach together and wonder if the moment in the car was a residual of those weird feelings. I smile at the absurd thoughts that ever-so-briefly ran through my head. I'll be thankful when Gabe's aware of us. In fact, it's probably just the stress of hiding something from him that's got me in this temporary funk. While it will take a little getting used to, a little adjusting, I know Gabe will ultimately be okay with this. He's wiser than most of us give him credit for.

With this cleared up in my head, I resolve to give the blood-brothers time together and continue on as a solitary surfer. The physical release feels good and I use the quiet alone time to sort our plot points. Several waves later, I'm glad that I have this free time to mentally work through some issues I'd hit in my writing but had brushed off to focus on Zach. I understand that as important as this man is to me, I can't let go of me, or shrink the work I love to accommodate this relationship like I did with Rich. Of course, Zach is appreciative and encouraging of my writing like Rich never was, but realizing I'd begun to set it aside without thinking scares me slightly. I don't want to lose my writing voice again after all this time. Right here, on this board, before the waves and the sun and my muse, I vow that regardless of our relationship, I will not relegate my work to a non-priority again.

A few waves later, I decide to come in, happy with my soul-searching and confident that the future will be amazing. I am constantly awed by how just being in the water clarifies everything. Even living in LA again soon, I _need_ to return to the beach, need to make it a priority as well. It grounds me like nothing else. Hitting the sand, I feel renewed and happy again. I see Gabe and Zach sitting near the shore, I run to them with a smile. _My family._

"Oh, there he is!" Gabe exclaims as I approach. "You lasted pretty long out there, Old Man," he jokes, getting up to pretend to fight. I join in on the silliness for a few seconds before he plops back down next to Zach, who looks extremely uncomfortable. I wonder if he's getting the same interrogation that I've been dealing with all day. "Oh, my big bro on a longboard. Never thought I'd see the day," Gabe jokes, breaking my attention away from Zach and making him smile and laugh. I'm glad age jokes are still funny enough to crack through his mood and make him smile.

"Give me ten years and call me back about that," I kid back.

"Yeah right. I'll never be on a longboard. Ever," Gabe affirms. "Alright, I'm getting beers," he changes subjects and takes off to the cooler in my car. Finally! Alone time. I crouch down to Zach, hoping to give him some encouragement since he looks so down.

"What's up, Babe?" I go to squeeze his knee and he shoves my hand away.

"Shaun!" he exclaims like I've committed a major gaffe rather than maybe displayed a bit more PDA than he's comfortable with. _Ouch_. I get that he's stressed and this is Gabe, but that stings. I gesture to my brother's rapidly-retreating form, then decide to let it go. My inner shrink encourages me to remember my recent self-realization and cut him some slack.

"Shaun just chill," he continues, and I realize I can't charm him out of his mood. I spit in an attempt to not obviously roll my eyes at him. I'd really thought the closet-case part of him had started to disappear, but apparently he's back in full force. Deciding to hit the water again, I take my board and sit in the lapping waves, allowing Gabe and Zach more time together. My brother approaches after a while.

"Hey are you okay bro?" he asks.

"Yup, just enjoying the horizon," I reply, gesturing to the expanse of endless ocean ahead of me.

"Okay. Hey you mind if I ride home with Zach?" I shake my head. "Cool man. I'll see you back at the house right?" I nod.

"Yeah, I'll head that way soon," I promise.

"Cool. See if you can find some hottie to bring along man," he encourages with his patented Gabe-Andrews-Hip-Thrust. I laugh. Gabe's obvious talent exists. It's making people laugh, both at and with him.

"Peace bro," he waves then takes off toward Zach, who's already waiting by his vehicle. I sigh.

Yeah, the "honeymoon" looks like it's over.


	57. Chapter 57

And strangely, I'm okay with that. I'm okay with days that aren't as absolutely perfect as the past couple have been (until Gabe came home that is) because as nice and magical and wonderful as that is, it's not really _real_. I want the real stuff too-the "_why_ can't you pick up your socks," and the "I can't believe you forgot to pay this bill!" and the "let me rub your back since you're not feeling well, and I'll mop up that mess as soon as I tuck you into bed" realness that makes up a life with someone. I'm anxious to take on that with Zach, eager to take on that with Cody, and even willing to take on and include his sister's own particular brand of realness too. I just need to talk to him and calm him down and show him that things will be better soon, but they won't improve if he shuts me out.

I direct myself back to the shore and hike over to my car. Stashing my board, I'm eager to get back to the house and talk to Zach before Gabe's shindig takes over the evening. When I review this morning before my brother's untimely interruption in my mind, the part where he asked me about LA stands out, and it occurs to me that his issues might have more to do with a fear of me leaving him here than Gabe's arrival. I drive home paying no attention to posted speed limits eager to reassure Zach that I'm in it for the long haul and finally explain that I want and have the ability to bring him and his family with me to LA.

I arrive back at the beach house and go searching. I haven't quite figured out how to go about getting Zach away from his best friend without it rousing Gabe's inquisitive nature, but at this point I just don't give a damn. I find Gabe outside near the pool with a hose and one of those plastic kiddie pools. Giving him my best 'What the hell are you doing, baby brother?' looks, I can only shake my head at him when he replies: "For the wet t-shirt wrestling contest." This boy needs a dose of strong independent woman in his life desperately, but I can't focus on that right now.

Attempting for nonchalance, I go for it. "Uh, where's Zach?" Gabe looks at me and I can't tell if the squint is a shrewd look into my soul or him just blocking out the sun's rays from his vision.

"He went home to do some stuff. He'll be back later."

"Ahh, got it," I reply, attempting not to appear crestfallen. "Did you guys have fun?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"Mmm, he's still beat up over Tori I guess. Pretty down and out. I take it you never hooked up?" I inhale so quickly I begin to cough. "I mean, I _asked_ you to just check on him, and you didn't, did you?" he asks, looking…disappointed? I can't tell at this point.

I stop sputtering at his unintentional play on words. "Sorry 'bout that," I lamely reply. "I've been, busy." Desperate to get out of there, I say the first thing that comes to mind. "I'm gonna uh, go upstairs and take a nap," I inform him. Gabe shrugs his shoulders and begins to hum as he goes back to filling the kiddie pool.

I run upstairs and enter my room, kicking the door shut as I grab my phone and call Zach. The photo of us together appears as it rings and I smile. "This is Zach. Leave a message."

"Hey Babe, I just wanted to call and check up on you. I know today was a bit…crazier than we'd planned. Call me when you get a chance. If you can come to Gabe's fiesta a bit early maybe we can talk. I have…something I wanna ask you. Love you." I click my phone shut and hope he calls back soon before crawling beneath the covers.

I toss and turn for a bit before falling asleep. When I wake up, it's quite a bit darker and I can hear the party in progress. I stretch and get out of bed, going to peek out the balcony where I see people milling about outside as well and notice it's chilly. Wiping my eyes I grab my phone to see if I missed a call or text from Zach. The screen shows a message, which turns out to be from my agent. Figuring he's most likely here by now, I flip the light on in the closet and grab some jeans and a shirt. I find a light jacket as well and throw it on. I head downstairs and immediately run into Gabe, who's dealing with a very very drunk girl.

"Cherie, baby, I think you gotta go home," he's telling her like he would a petulant child. She sways back and forth and I wonder how he expects this poor young woman to get herself home. If this is the girl he was referring to earlier, I find it very doubtful that he'll be using those condoms he was eager to retrieve this morning. He sees me and gives me his 'Help!' look. I shake my head and even though I would rather not, I make the offer.

"Where does she live?" I ask through clenched teeth.

"Yo thanks dude, I totally owe you!" he exclaims. "I'll text you her address," he continues, passing her off to me. I gently shove my shoulder under hers and wrap my arm around her to begin the process of getting her to my car. I look back at Gabe.

"Yeah, you do," I inform him as seriously as possible. "Remember this because I will be taking you up on what you owe me for this, man," I solemnly explain. It can't hurt to have this debt in my backs pocket when Zach and I announce that we're an item. I continue through the crowd with the barely-conscious girl, keeping my eye out for Zach. I don't see him at all, but my attention is primarily focused on keeping her upright. I consider just calling a cab, but the gentleman in me won't allow it. We finally make it to my car and getting her inside is a debacle in and of itself. If I thought getting Cody's car seat set up was difficult, I now realize it's nothing compared to safely installing a wasted female. Ten minutes of maneuvering and I finally have her buckled in.

I pull out and look at my phone for the address. Of course, it's going to be a 30 minute drive one-way. I curse my brother as I drive in the direction of this girl's home, grateful at least that Gabe won't be getting any action. The drive is quiet at least, and I prepare what I want to say to Zach on the ride. Pulling into her driveway, I attempt to awaken her.

"Cherie! Hon, it's time to wake up. You're home…" I begin, shaking her shoulder gently. After a few minutes she rouses and then I begin the process of extricating her from the car, which takes as long as it did getting her in. Gabe owes me big time for this. I help her inside and to her room, where she passes out on her bed. I draw the line at undressing this complete stranger, so I find a blanket and cover her with it, find a glass of water to set next to her, and take my leave, locking the door behind me. "Well, I've done my good deed for the day," I tell myself as I begin the drive back to Long Beach.

I pull up and I can see from the street that the party is crazier than it was when I left. There's no way to get back in the garage, so I park as close to the mansion as possible and get out. The music is loud and Gabe's lucky that many of the neighbors own these places as vacation homes and most likely aren't in residence. As I walk up the drive, I see Zach's car and smile. So he's here. There's the shadow of someone sitting in the driver's seat, a silhouette I'd know anywhere. Maybe this is the Universe's way of thanking me for taking Cherie home safely: delivering the precise person I was hoping to find in a quiet, secluded space, exactly like I wanted.

I approach the passenger's side door and knock, ready to get this over with.


	58. Chapter 58

"Hey," I greet him, settling in the seat and closing the door. He looks like he's ready to say something, possibly gathering his thoughts, so I give him a second. He stares ahead, and I feel like his body is in the car with me, but the Zach I know and love isn't here. Or perhaps he's distracted. He finally spits out words that seem to have been waiting.

"I need some time." _Okay_, I think. _That's fine._ We don't have to tell Gabe immediately, I mean, it will be stressful like today was, but if this is what he needs, I promised it to him weeks ago and will stand by my word. I focus in on him rather than what's going on inside my head. "I just don't know if this is really what I want," he clarifies. _Wait. What?!_

"It _seems_ like what you want," I defend our relationship, flabbergasted. Where the hell is this coming from? What the hell is going through his mind? How can he honestly look at what we have and not want it, want it with every bone in his body the way I do?

"I just don't know if this is what I want-for good," he argues, looking me in the eye finally. I don't even know where to go with the words that are coming out of his mouth. My breathing becomes shallow and I can hear my heart beat. _Oh God, am I having another freak out?_ Time seems thick. I feel like I'm underwater. I struggle to create words, to find out why he's saying this shit, and at first the only thing that comes out is a harsh sigh. _Gather your wits about you, Andrews!_

"What's that supposed to mean?" I force out, not willing to allow another melt down to occur. The part of me that wants to curl up in the fetal position covering his ears allows pragmatic Shaun to take control.

"It's not as easy for me as it is for you. You know, this is, this is all totally new to me."

I calmly and rationally address the situation as I see it. "Look, we'll get through The Gabe Thing…" I offer, attempting to get this conversation back on the track I had mentally prepared for. If I need to step back so he can focus on his relationship with my brother, It'll suck, but I can handle that, have been preparing myself for it since clarity came to me on my longboard this afternoon. He can't mean he doesn't want 'us' when 'us' is so, _so_ good.

"No it's not that, Shaun. You just don't get it, okay?" _What don't I get?_ my brain screams. "I can't just _take_ whatever I want. My life is not like that." The words he's saying make sense; I understand the meaning of each word, but it feels like I'm listening to a language I'm not familiar with. Contextually-speaking, what is he talking about? I can't help him if I don't know where he's coming from, so I offer the best advice I can with the limited information I have.

"You'll never get what you want unless you take it." The part of me that's ready to defend and protect our relationship is gearing up to battle whatever demons Zach imagines. I feel adrenaline building up while my stomach still sinks over the fact that my beautiful Zach would think there was anything in this world he couldn't take grasp of.

"Take it," he pauses for a second and I hope he's finally seeing what I see: an amazing young man who has the world at his feet. "You know, you and Gabe have always been able to point and take. No questions asked." _What?_ I feel like we're holding multiple conversations at once and I can't keep track of which one I'm in. Now he's upset about life directions? Even tearing up over it? I try to focus on what he is saying because I feel completely lost at this point. "You don't realize it's not like that for other people. It's fucking ignorant." I drop whatever positive and affirming thing I had gathered to say to him in an attempt to help, now seriously fucking pissed. While I can't speak for Gabe, I haven't once 'taken' anything I didn't work _damn hard_ for. The fact that I've been dating a 22 year old finally rears its head because he's finally acting like the immature brat his years would suggest. I'm sick of being the calm, rational, understanding and easy-going boyfriend and bring myself down to his level.

"Oh and you and Jeanne just blame everyone else because you can't do anything for yourselves? What do you call that?" Instantly I feel like shit. Why I pulled Jeanne into this, I can't say. Probably because he mentioned Gabe, but the difference is, he knows Gabe, has seen my brother do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. As for Jeanne, my actual knowledge of her is limited to a few encounters several years ago. It was a low blow and I try to fix it. "Look…" I begin, but I lose my train of thought, so confused and hurt and shocked. "Fuck!" I drop the anger and try to focus on fixing what's wrong, but without knowing Zach's motivation, I'm at a loss. I attempt to understand. "Why are you doing this?"

"Don't get all emotional and faggy on me, okay?" It suddenly becomes clear that this will not end well, regardless of how hard I try to make it work. Though my stomach has dropped as low as it can and I physically feel like puking, I can't let that particular insult slide.

"What?" I say in my sternest voice. I try to just focus on inhaling and exhaling because if I try to do anything more I feel like I'll shatter into a million tiny fragments of someone who loved a man that apparently _never_ existed.

"I'm sick of being your childhood wet dream, Shaun," he defiantly explains. Tony's words. He can't genuinely think I feel that way. I've tried to show him how important he is in every way I could. "Find another fucking fantasy!" _Oh, Babe. Don't you see? You _were_ the fantasy._

Realizing there's more to this situation than I understand, and he's clearly not going to explain, I can only lament at what this conversation was supposed to be, how it was supposed to end before these ugly words. In the back of my head, beyond the mind-blowing pain and misery, I know that I deserve someone who would fight for me too. And apparently Zach's not that man. "You know what? You're a fucking coward," I inform him. I don't want to scream or shout. I want to be as dignified as possible in front of him so that's what he remembers.

"I'm done." His two words tell me it's over. The most significant relationship of my life barely lasted a summer. I reiterate my position, wanting him to know that this is all on him.

"You're a fucking coward."

"I'm done. Get out!" He shouts, the opposite of my quiet, measured words. I do as he requests, and he starts his car and leaves as I head back in the general direction of the door, completely shell-shocked.

_Did that really just happen?_ I can't think about this now. I need to get to my room before I break down. I focus all of my attention on moving my feet: _Left, right, left right, up a step. Grasp the handle and open the door._ My simple train of thought is assaulted by the loud party and drunk people, who at least are so wrapped up in what they're doing that they don't notice the zombie of Gabe's brother walking among them.

I detour to the kitchen and grab a bottle of red I'd stashed in the pantry. Seeing a bar set-up, I also peruse the selection. Tequila. I never got to make him my famous margaritas I'd offered that first night he brought Cody for dinner. _Cody!_ My vision blurs at the thought of not seeing his shining face or hearing his giggles or having surf lessons again. I grab that bottle as well and plow through the crowd. _Left, right, left, right, up the stairs to my door._ I open the door to a very surprised couple making out on my bed. "Out!" I shout with the force I held back on with Zach. They make a hasty retreat and I lock the door and throw myself on the bed, intent on drinking the last 12 hours from my head.


	59. Chapter 59

I hug my pillow, which smells like him, as my eyes fill. Letting out all the emotion I held back in the car, my body begins to shudder as I sob. Images and thoughts swirl in my head, memories of quiet moments in this very bed, laughing as we shared beers at The Shack, grocery shopping with Cody, _the mural_! The lifetime membership to my fan club, oh God—he hasn't seen the love notes I left in his copies of my novels!

After several minutes of crying, I sit up and wipe my face. I come to terms with the fact that it's now time to drink because I physically cannot handle the emotional wringer I'm currently going through. I pull the cork out of the wine bottle and put it to my lips, throwing back a big swig. The bottle is about three-quarters full and I estimate it should take me about 10 minutes to pound it back. I study the label, reading each word, individually sounding out the syllables until they don't even feel like words, just sounds my brain is thinking as I attempt to block out memories or thoughts about what just happened.

I finish the bottle and my insides still feel like they've been sliced a thousand different ways, so I uncap the tequila and chug a shot. It's warm and strong and the flavor doesn't blend well with the red-wine taste in my mouth. I grimace, but force myself to swallow it. It burns going down, and I revel in this new pain that has nothing to do with rejection. I pause for a few seconds and allow the fiery feeling to travel down to my stomach and for the first time since leaving Zach's Jimmy, I _don't_ feel the overwhelming desire to puke. Convinced I'm on the right track, I take another swig and wait for the pain again. This time it's not as sharp a burn and the effects of so much alcohol in a short time begin their desired magic of making things a little bit fuzzy.

The third shot of tequila doesn't even faze me as I easily swallow it, and suddenly it's somewhat humorous that I'm reacting so strongly to the end of such a short-lived relationship considering walking in on my boyfriend of three years and my best friend only prompted me to pack my bags and walk away. Okay, it was only ironic for a few moments, and now it hurts. My eyes tear up again and I take another sip. The urge to call Zach and ask 'why?' is building, but I'm still coherent enough to know that that is a _bad_ idea. I turn off my phone and throw it in my nightstand drawer, amid condoms I won't be using anytime soon. Refusing to let Gabe's joke gift get to me, I drink some more and find the remote. I turn the TV on to the cooking channel and watch some crazy reality show about who can make a better peacock-themed dessert, the color and quiet noise provide enough distraction that I can't think, only focus on breathing. _In, out, in, out, take a swig, in out, in, out, deep breath, hold it in, release_. My attempts at reaching a drunken Zen state are thwarted by a rapping that's not coming from the television.

Someone's knocking on my door. _Zach?!_ My heart skips a beat as I jump up to answer the door.

"Yo bro, lemme in!" Gabe barks over the din of the TV while pounding on my door. My heart falls into my stomach. I shake my head at my own stupidity at thinking it was Zach. I hadn't made any sounds and I wonder if he'll just go away, thinking it's a couple who has locked themselves inside if I continue to ignore him. "Dude, Shaun, open this door! It's not like I don't have a key for it, but I'm gonna be pissed if I have to go find it when I know you're in there and can easily open it!" he continues. I'm surprised he's not slurring his words more. When I left him to take Cherie home a couple hours ago, he seemed sober and I assumed by now he'd be less so. Not wanting to deal with him right now, but wanting even less to deal with him after he unlocks the door himself, I hide the tequila under the comforter and go to open the door.

The sadistic part of me that must enjoy pain finds it funny that doing this exact same thing this morning led to my current heartbreak. I flip the lock on the door and turn around without opening it. Clearly Gabe was paying attention because he enters before I can even make it past the bathroom.

"What do you want, Gabe?" I begin. "I've had too much to drink to take another one of your conquests home tonight," I inform him hoping he'll just go.

"Shaun, what is going on?" he goes for direct. I try to deflect.

"It took me well over an hour to take that girl home and get back. I'm in no mood or condition to do it again Baby Brother. Call a cab for this one," Jerk Shaun mutters.

"What are you talking about?" he asks. "I can tell something's up. This isn't about the girl, er, woman I've been talking to since Cherie left." My brain, through the fuzziness, makes note of his distinction.

"Then what do you want, Gabe?" I ask.

"To know what the hell is going on. The chick—woman—I was talking to points out this guy sneaking alcohol like some under-age prankster and I was embarrassed to inform her that the hooch-stealing hooligan was none other than my 30 year old brother. Who _does_ that, man?" he implores, shaking his head.

"When did you start referring to females as 'women'?" I shoot back, desperate to turn the focus on him. His response is something I can easily say I'd never imagined happening to my brother; Gabe blushes.

"This isn't about me, this is about you," he insists, his red cheeks fading to pink. I don't know if it's because I'm a little drunk but I can't help but think blushing Gabe is hysterical. I begin to laugh. It feels foreign and lighter than all the body-wracking sobbing I'd just been doing. "Look bro, it's obvious you've been…shacking up with someone. There are two toothbrushes in your bathroom. And I'm gonna assume that this dude's a dad or an immature midget, because there's a kid-sized surfboard outside and the TV downstairs was on the cartoon channel, plus you have real food in the fridge, unless you recently developed a taste for Batman fruit snacks?" _Busted. Well, at least he hasn't put it completely together_, I consider before he continues. "Then there's this whole thing with Zach." _Shit-shit-shit!_ I gulp, wondering how best to come clean about a relationship that died a painful death only an hour ago. "I get that Robbie isn't exactly your best friend any longer, but dude, did you have to go and poach mine?" My heart stops_. So he hasn't figured out that the 'dad' was actually his best friend the uncle?_ I blink and try to sober up enough to give a rational reply.

"What do you mean?"

"Look dude, I come into town, and even though you both claim you haven't seen each other-even though I asked both of you to check up on the other one and it's very out-of-character for either of you to blow off something especially if it's about someone who genuinely might be hurting—but I see Zach wearing a shirt you've had for years, and one of his boards that wasn't here a few weeks ago now is, with a huge ding, which added together means you've been surfing with each other," he deduces, then continues his well-developed theory. "And add to that the fact that he's not talking about Tori to me, at all. I can only assume that during this time together you've taken on the roll of 'best friend' to each other, because today has fucking sucked trying to talk to either of you!" He exhales after this statement and he looks miserable. _Oh Gabe!_ My poor brother fears he lost his best friend to me and I feel awful. How do I even begin to tackle this mess of a scenario?

"Yeah, we've been…talking. Like you said when you called asking me to check on him, we're both dealing with break-ups, so it's natural to commiserate. I didn't realize you'd think I'd stolen your friend away from you, Gabe," I apologize. "Trust me, I'm over Rich, so I don't need the moral support anymore. Zach is, was, and always will be your best friend. Thanks for letting me…borrow him for a while. I promise you that that time is well-over."

My brother looks less upset, and for that I'm grateful. "Good. Not that you're both not awesome, dude. You're actually the two best people I know, but today wasn't exactly easy on me trying to figure stuff out," he explains, and I smile. The immense buzz I was feeling is wearing off, and I realize getting wasted tonight's not a good idea.

"So tell me about this girl, uh, woman," I begin.

"So tell me about this _dad_," he counters back. "Is it weird, dating someone with a kid? Was he straight at one point or was the kid all test tubes and science and shit? Does the kid call you dad?" Gabe and his questions! I roll my eyes.

"Gabe, whatever was going on with a parent or midget is over and I don't want to discuss it." He looks disappointed.

"How am I supposed to help you if you won't tell me what's wrong? I can see you're upset," he explains, pulling up my comforter to reveal the bottle of tequila. "And since you don't have a Robbie, or Zach now, I wanna help." I'm touched at my brother's attempt to comfort me.

"No worries, it was, a summer fling," I reply swallowing the lie. My mouth tastes disgusting. "I want to hear about this paragon of a woman who made you forget Cherie within minutes," I encourage, hoping he'll blush again.

"Mmm, her name's Elisabeth. When she told me she said 'Elisabeth with an "S" like Liza with a "Z,"' and then was shocked I didn't get it." I bust out laughing.

"Gabe, she thinks you're gay!" The blush on his face erases as he pales. "She was referring to Liza Minnelli and must have thought you were familiar with that song!" I explain between giggles.

"No, she couldn't have? Oh God! It was loud. I introduced myself—I bet she heard 'Hey babe, I'm Gay,' instead of Gabe! Shit! No wonder she said 'Well that's a bold introduction, but I prefer to be referred to as a woman.' Fuck man!" He shakes his head in sorrow and for the first time I'm not running through my conversation with Zach in my head because I'm laughing so hard at my brother's misfortune. "I gotta go explain, somehow…" he continues with his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"You do that," I reply, heading to the bathroom to brush away the taste of tequila and wine. "Take the tequila back," I instruct as I enter. In the bathroom, I see Zach's red toothbrush. I run a finger along it, debating whether using it would be stupid and tragic. _Fuck it_, I decide, and pull it from the cup, grabbing the toothpaste and squeezing a generous amount on the bristles. I spend several minutes cleaning my mouth and notice Gabe in the mirror, if possible even paler than before. I wash out my mouth and put the toothbrush away. "You okay?" I ask, concerned.

"You fucking recruiter. There was no dad. You were fucking my best friend!"


	60. Chapter 60

I turn around to Gabe's accusing glare. If I thought he was upset about the thought of me befriending his blood-brother, he's positively livid realizing our recent interactions have been more than platonic. It's almost like he's wearing a mask someone made of what he _would_ look like angry because he's so laid-back that I can honestly say I've never seen him like this.

"What makes you think that, G?" I say slowly, carefully, with measured words, completely losing any buzz I had left as my heart rate drops. It's worse to be caught now. Had it happened when I expected it to, at least I would have been pleasantly drunk and possibly incoherent for this conversation.

"Gee, Mr. I-don't-think-you-wanna-know-about-my-new-book-Gabe-it's-a-bit-autobiographical, I saw your laptop lying there…" he points to my traitorous computer sitting on the entertainment center. If I recall, it had been left open but was asleep. The screen is now bright with my love for Zach poured out across the pages of my novel. "…and figured I'd take a look."

"Damn it Gabe, you had no right!" I exclaim, pissed off but not exactly surprised at his invasion of my privacy.

"Oh, so you're planning to _publish_ this but I can't get a sneak peek?" he ask, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He walks over to it and begins reading aloud. "'Zeke was my sister's best friend, a gifted musician who was self-taught. Though I hadn't seen him in a decade, all the memories of watching him grow up alongside Gabby flooded my brain and I could faintly hear a tune he'd composed at the age of ten upon hearing his name as we're introduced again, both as adults this time.' Dude. Change music to art and the ages, not to mention that I am _not_ a girl named 'Gabby,' and you're talking about Zach." I sigh. There's no way to get out of this debacle.

"Were you gonna tell me?" he asks, still sporting a very un-Gabe-like frown on his face. "Or were you just gonna keep this like, a secret forever? And how did you even turn him? 'Cause the last time I saw him, he was fully into chicks not dicks."

"Don't you mean 'women,'" I impudently cut in.

"You leave Elisabeth out of this," he growls back. "This is about my brother and my best friend lying to me." He's so upset he's shaking, and all the pain and guilt I've felt today and worked to suppress finally erupts seeing him like this. My baby brother is hurt and I'm the cause. I absolutely know what it feels like to be lied to and Gabe doesn't deserve this.

"You're right," I reply, nodding my head. "You don't deserve to be treated like that and I apologize. I'd like to explain maybe, as much as I can, but I need you to drop the hostility because this isn't easy on me either," I explain, my eyes tearing up again. Seeing my glassy eyes seems to reach Gabe, the brother I know and love, because he's returned in place of the sullen and angry young man I was just conversing with.

"Fine bro. Spit it out," he replies, arms folded across his chest. I walk out to the bed and sit down. Grabbing the tequila, I take a swig and offer it to him. He accepts and makes the same face I probably did after my first gulp. He sits down, not next to me but on the bench and I see that he's genuinely curious about what I have to say. I'm grateful it's not all rage and accusations and hope he'll at least try to understand.

"As you know, I came here after Rich and I split." He nods. "Soon after I got here, I noticed some punk kid waxing a board in the side yard. It was Zach, who I hadn't seen since your graduation. Without getting graphic, I thought he'd grown up nicely, but that was it. We chatted and he invited me to go surfing with him that day. We had a good time."

"So then you were all like 'Hey dude, wanna get it on?' or what?" he interrupts. I sigh. It's painful to remember everything right now, but I owe it to Gabe to be honest, so I press on.

"Um, no. I uh, found your old walkie-talkie radio in my entertainment center later and was playing with it and he answered."

"Uh, I think I may have stashed some other stuff there," he cuts in, looking flustered.

"The girlie magazines?" I ask. He nods. "Sorry bro, I tossed 'em,"

"Damn it Shaun—those had sentimental value!" I cringe at his 'sentiment' that was probably all over the flesh mags.

"Dude. Too much info," I exclaim now wishing I'd had gloves when excavating the crap he'd left in there.

"Oh that's rich coming from the man who's explaining how he seduced my best friend!" he exclaims, rolling his eyes.

"You wanted to know," I counter back, then try to remember where I was. "So we chatted on the radios, about old times or whatnot, and the next day he showed up ready to go surfing again," I continue.

"You couldn't have said 'no'?"

"Do you _want_ to hear this story or not?"

"Not really, but if I want any chance of keeping my best friend and trusting my brother again, I think I should be in the know." He takes another swallow of tequila. I sigh, then begin again.

"So I actually _did_ say I was busy, but he was…sending off a kind of flirty vibe that I liked, so I went."

"A flirty vibe? Are you _sure_ he wasn't just being nice?"

"Yes Gabe, I know a flirty vibe from another man when I see one, Mr. I-was-just-confused-for-a-gay-man-by-a-woman-when-I-was-sending-a-flirty-vibe-her-way." I shoot back sarcastically. This puts him in his place momentarily as he blushes and is silent.

"And we had another awesome day of surfing. I liked the man he'd grown up to become. He came back here for beer and…I kissed him."

"You got him drunk? Then took advantage of him?!" he exclaims, looking at me like I'd just admitted to slipping his best friend a roofie.

"Okay Gabe, I'm willing to tell you what's going on, even though it's painful to talk about, but I need you to go ahead and stop viewing me as some creepy fucking predator and remember I'm your brother, or I'm done." He considers this, and looks a little sheepish.

"You're right I guess. Zach's a big boy. Continue man."

"We fell asleep. When I woke up he was gone. I felt like shit. Wondering if I'd misread the signals he'd been sending, you know? I felt horrible thinking I'd ruined your friendship. I tried calling and he wouldn't answer. I gave up. Then several days later, he showed up here, ready to, get physical." He inhales at the thought and I leave it at that, letting him come to his own conclusions on exactly what that means. He considers this and hits the bottle for another shot. "We gelled. Really well. I, uh, have actually never been happier in a relationship. Thought he was the one and everything. I mean, we had our fair share of problems: telling you, Jeanne. But I figured we'd get through them. I was uh, about to ask him to move in with me, with Cody and Jeanne in LA, this morning right as you barged in," I confess, choking up again.

"You were willing to live with Jeanne and Cody, _for him_?" he asks, awed.

"Oh, Cody: yes in a heartbeat. Jeanne not so much but yeah. I never felt this way about a guy before. It was, uh, like looking at him, I could see a life I never knew I always wanted. It sounds stupid…" I trail off. A tear slips down.

"Well, what the fuck happened? I mean, I'm not exactly overjoyed that you guys were hooking up behind my back, but I'm not gonna stand in your way if you wanna be together."

"Thanks man. That uh, means a lot," I reply, humbled at his mercurial change of heart. "But it's not up to me. Zach…ended it when I got back from taking your girlfriend home," I admit as I wipe my eyes.

"She's not my girlfriend," he insists, then realized what I just told him. "Wait, what? Why?"

"Dunno brother. He said he wasn't ready for 'this' for good," I explain, gesturing to myself, shrugging. "I'm sure there was more to it, but he was adamant it was over, accused me of getting emotional and 'faggy' on him." I sigh. The pain of physically putting the words and our story into the Universe actually alleviated the oppressive cloud of pain I'd been breathing in.

"He called you what?" my kid brother touches my heart as he prepares to defend me, even though 15 minutes ago I was a lecherous creep in his eyes.

"Needless to say, it's over. I'll survive. And so will your friendship Gabe. I promise," I assure him.

"Yeah, but you look like shit over it. I don't want that. And thinking about it, I sort of get it. You two _would_ be pretty perfect together I guess," he admits. I smile. "Plus, when I admit to Elisabeth I'm not gay, she'll probably be disappointed, but if I tell her my brother _and_ best friend are _and_ they're a couple and I'm like, so supportive, she might think I'm like, sensitive and shit." I laugh, glad everything is out in the open and my brother apparently would have come around to be supportive of my relationship with Zach, had it not crashed and burned mere hours ago.

"I need to meet this…woman, I think," I reply, shaking my head with a chuckle. My heart, which has been aching, warms with love for my dopey brother and his unconditional love.

"Well, I hope she's still downstairs. I didn't get her digits yet. Eww, I hope she doesn't think we're hooking up!" he exclaims with a shudder. I playfully punch his shoulder.

"You're not my type Gabe."

"Young twenty-something, into surfing, Cali-dude? Really?" he asks, describing both himself and his best friend.

"Shut up and introduce me to Elisabeth. I'll try to help you come out as a straight man in a classy, dignified way."

"Thanks man," he smiles. We leave my room to head downstairs and he throws his arm around my shoulder. "I love you Shaun."

"Love you too G."


	61. Chapter 61

The party is starting to wind down, and isn't nearly as crowded or loud as it was when I came upstairs. Gabe's got the now nearly-empty tequila bottle I'd pilfered so we head to the kitchen to return it first. He's surveying the room and seems disappointed so I assume Elisabeth's not here. He begins making himself a drink with a liberal amount of Scotch and points to me, mouthing the words "Want one?" I shake my head and mouth back "Just a beer." After his cocktail is made, he searches the fridge and pulls out a bottle for me. He pops the cap off and hands it to me, then gestures with his hand that I should follow him. We leave the kitchen and wander throughout the first floor of the house with no luck finding this mystery woman Gabe's all-of-the-sudden obsessed with. The look of defeat on his face would be priceless if I didn't know he'd already had a tough day.

"Let's try outside," I offer, doubtful at this point that she hadn't taken off. We scour the pool area and still come up empty. "Did you get her number?" I ask.

"No," he replies. "I introduced myself, she gave me her name and the bit about Liza. I asked her how she came to be here, having never met her, she said her sister was friends with Billy and he'd invited them. Uh, then we talked about a pole dancing class she was taking, and I kind of lost track for a second there, man. A pole dancing class. I mean, that's so hot; how is it even real?" He shakes his head and his hips, then nods at me with a leer. "So yeah, I lost it for a minute and missed part of that, and then she pointed to you stealing booze, and I was too embarrassed to admit I knew you so I just excused myself saying I'd be right back and that's it."

"And you didn't get her number? I'm surprised at you Gabe."

"I _know_ man! I definitely wasn't bringing my A-game, especially if she thinks I play for your team," he laments. I pat his back and take a sip of beer to cover my chuckle. We wander around to the side yard and Gabe stops in his tracks. I nearly walk into him before realizing he'd paused. Standing near the lined up surfboards is a woman on her phone. She turns around and notices Gabe, giving a slight wave as she continues her conversation. I look at my brother and he nods giving me a thumbs up.

I'm pretty surprised because this woman isn't what I expected, at all. Instead of a young beach bunny with long blonde hair and a tank top and shorts, Gabe's usual fare, Elisabeth is a few years older than Gabe, probably closer to my age than his. Her hair is a bleached out blonde and is in a short almost pixie-cut fauxhawk. She's wearing all black: jeans and ballet flats along with a cut up t-shirt sporting a logo for Led Zeppelin. I hide my shock and nod when he whispers to me. "Two words, bro: Pole. Dancing." Thinking this woman is cooler, by far, than any other girl Gabe's ever introduced me to, I get the feeling Baby Brother may be out of his league here, and decide to sit back and enjoy the show.

She's still on the phone and uses her hand to indicate the person on the other end is chattering on and on as she rolls her eyes and nods. "Yeah, I understand that you were scared, but I'm doubtful that a person with a vocabulary of one word and a crowd of witnesses this size would have acted on a threat," she patiently explains. "I mean, if he just shouted 'Out,' that could have meant 'Get out of this room," not 'Get out of this house and this city and this state.'" I look down at the ground in shame as I realize her ride most likely was the couple who got the full wrath of Shaun in my bedroom. "Yeah, I'll figure something out. It's just late." She sighs and looks up at the sky. "Yeah I'm safe," she confirms, looking our way. "My new friend just re-appeared so I'm gonna let you go. I'll keep you posted, okay?" She nods to the person on the other end of the line. "Love you too sis."

She hangs up and stashes the phone in her pocket before addressing Gabe. "I'd given you up for gone," she smiles and I can see my brother turn pink in the moonlight. Turning to look in my direction, she recognizes me. "Ahh, the liquor liberator! Busted, huh?" I laugh.

"Hi, I'm Shaun," I introduce myself, extending my hand. She takes it and we shake. Her grasp is firm and she looks me directly in the eye with a smile. "And yeah, I got caught." I sheepishly explain as we drop hands. "But in my defense, it's been a rough day and since I live here, I thought I'd enjoy a bottle alone because I'm not good company right now." She nods.

"I'm Elisabeth…" she begins.

"With an 'S,' like Liza with a 'Z," I cut in with a smile.

"Ahh, finally, a Liza fan!" she exclaims. "This one looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language," she points to Gabe, then puts her hand out toward him. "And I never actually got your name, Liza-hater," she teases.

"Uh, I said I was Gabe…?" he replies like it's a question. She looks at him and tilts her head like she doesn't understand. I've never seen my brother look this flustered! He sighs. "Gabe. Like, Gabriel. My name is Gabriel," he spits out, taking her hand to shake finally.

"Gabriel and Shaun," she nods and I wait for Gabe to correct her, as he usually dislikes being called by the full version of his name. He says nothing. "How do you two know each other? Juvie?" I crack up laughing. I wait for Gabe to explain, but he's still not saying anything, so I decide to save him.

"You'd think so, what with me being a booze thief, but actually, we're brothers," I confess. Then I remember her phone conversation. "Are you stranded here?" I ask.

"Yeah my sister took off after some creep spooked her out," she explains with a sigh. Gabe is watching our conversation like it's a tennis game, bobbing his head back and forth between us. I give him a look to snap out of it, but he doesn't get it. "We could call you a cab," I offer. "Or you're more than welcome to spend the night."

"Your car," my brilliant brother finally chimes in.

"What about it?" I ask, as patiently as possible, but trying not to appear like I'm frustrated about his inability to talk in full sentences in front of a girl he's unsuccessfully trying to impress.

"She doesn't drink," he explains. "She could take your car." I run the scenario through my head. I barely know her, but she seems cool and it's insured. Plus this way Gabe could score her number and maybe get his shit together by tomorrow to carry on a normal conversation with her.

"That would work for me," I reply, nodding.

"Really?" she asks, surprised. I guess I would be too if the situation was reversed.

"My brother vouches for you. That's good enough for me," I explain.

"Oh, you're a life-saver!" she exclaims, giving me a hug. Then she turns to Gabe. "You too, Gabriel," she hugs him as well. His ears turn red and I smile at his inability to be his normally cool, seemingly-suave self in front of her.

"Lemme go get the keys," I offer. "I'll meet you out front, okay?" I ask, giving my brother time alone with her. He nods. I run upstairs and grab my keys then head back down and out the front door. They're standing right where Zach was parked when he broke my heart. I swallow. This little adventure with my inanimate brother and the new object of his affection made me forget about that for a few minutes. I start to feel sick over it again, but convince myself to push through it, for Gabe's sake and so this poor girl doesn't think we're a family of idiots.

"I'm parked right down there," I point in the general direction of where I'd parked and begin walking there. They follow. Gabe's still practically comatose. "Why don't you give your number to Gabe, and take his, and tomorrow we'll see about getting the car?"

"Uh, sure." She gives her number to my brother. He saves it, then calls her. "Great, now I have it," she smiles when his number pops up on her screen. "Gabriel. There, you're saved and I'll call you tomorrow?" He nods. "Shaun, you're awesome! Gabriel, you're…an angel!" she enthuses as I open the door for her. She crawls in and I hand her the keys. "Thanks again, you guys." She starts the vehicle and pulls away as Gabe waves.

"Bye," he says to the tail lights. I shake my head.

"Are you okay?" I ask, and I'd probably be concerned if his behavior wasn't so damn funny.

"Yeah. She's cool, huh?"

"Very."

"And she thinks I'm gay and go by Gabriel," he laments. I laugh.

"But she's got your number, and you've got hers," I offer. "It's the best I could do as your wingman when you could barely utter a word," I explain.

"Fuck, man! I'm never gonna score with her, am I?" He looks so pathetic. I pat his back.

"I'm not a psychic, bro, but hey—she called you an angel at least," I sympathize as we walk back toward the door. More people are leaving and it's getting to the hour where people are leaving or finding a place to crash for the night. I desperately hope no one's in my room.

"It's time to get drunk," Gabe sighs, shaking his head.

"There are other girls, Gabe. Ones who don't think you're gay," I try to console him.

"But none who pole dance," he grieves. "I've never met a girl who pole dances but _isn't_ a stripper."

"Well, then get yourself together tomorrow before you call her," I gently hit the back of his head as we enter the kitchen.

"Yeah. But first, we drink," he approaches the bottles, and looks at what's still available. The Scotch hasn't been bothered so he pours another glass and makes one for me. "What a day."

I take the cup from his outstretched hand, then clink glasses with him. "Yup. A banner day for the Andrews boys."

"To us. Neither of whom hooked up at our own party," he slams the drink and pours another one. "I think I'm getting old, Shaun. Losing my touch," he confides, and I'm convinced it's the alcohol talking.

"Nah, you're just having an off night. I'm gonna head to bed. Are you gonna be okay?" I ask. He nods, taking another sip. "Sleep well," I encourage, then feel my stomach drop as I realize what I said. Gabe looks at me weirdly but nods again. I take my leave and jog upstairs. Exhausted, I shuck my jeans and jacket and shirt and throw myself into bed. Focusing on breathing rather than thinking, I eventually find sleep.


	62. Chapter 62

I wake up and turn over to snuggle with…more comforter. _Shit_. Yesterday wasn't a horrible nightmare where I got dumped with no real explanation and then basically handed off my car to a complete stranger. Clearly I was still a bit drunk when I made that stellar decision. I open my eyes and see that it's not an ungodly-early hour so I make myself get out of bed. I grab my phone and turn it back on, having sobered up enough now that I won't call Zach. No voicemail or text greets me and I sigh, then grab my jeans and shimmy into them before finding a shirt in the closet and going to hunt down Gabe to see if my car is still in the general area and hasn't been sold for parts or taken down to Mexico.

I shuffle in the general direction of Gabe's room. I pad into his room and see two people in the bed. Thinking he must have experienced the world's shortest crush and gotten over it in the arms of another woman, I approach the pair to find two complete strangers snuggling in my brother's bed. I chuckle and back away quietly so I don't disturb them. Before I leave, I hear a soft groaning coming from the bathroom. My brother is curled up in a fetal position with a bath mat rolled up and stuffed under his head and using a beach towel as a blanket.

"Hangover?" I whisper with a grin.

"Stop yelling," he whines from under the towel. I laugh as he peeks out from under the towel and grimaces. "Light," he moans, and I shut it off. "That's better." He starts to sit up, but apparently is still woozy because he slows down and the process takes almost a minute before he's upright enough to throw his arms over the toilet seat.

"You look like shit," I state the obvious as I plop down near him. "When did you finish and decide to go to sleep in the bathroom?" I ask, surveying where he spent the night. The wastebasket is overturned and the once-full bottle of scotch is tucked inside.

"Mmm, sometime between deciding that that bottle was my new best friend…" he points to the trash with an accusatory glare. "… and that I should call Elisabeth to be sure she got home safe."

"How'd that turn out?" I ask, curious to see if he was able to eke out more than three words in a row to the girl with the phone as a shield for his awkwardness around her.

"I thought I was smooth. But then she said 'You've been drinking, huh?' so, who knows." He grabs his phone, which was sitting on the back of the toilet, and looks at it.

"She's bringing the car back," he reads. "And donuts as a thank you."

"Then she's a keeper," I offer, with a smile. "I can't believe I lent my car to her. You definitely owe me dude."

"It was the only thing I could come up with," he mutters shaking his head over the toilet bowl. "I don't get it. Why can't I talk like a normal human being?"

"Seems like you like her," I explain. "Like, _like her_ like her."

"Shit man. Well, she probably thinks I'm special-ed at this point," he laments. "How could this even be real?" He wipes his hand across his face. "I _freakin'_ just met her."

"Sometimes that happens that way. Instantaneous attraction."

"Is uh, that what happened with you and Zach?"

"Yeah, pretty much." I look away, not wanting to focus on my miserable love life.

"Hey Romeo…" he starts, grabbing my knee with a squeeze.

"Don't tell me I'll find a new one," I sigh.

"Wasn't gonna brother. I was gonna say to have a little faith. Zach's a keeper too. He just doesn't know it, yet. Give him some time."

"When did you get to be so wise?" I ask, ruffling his messy hair.

"Headache bro!" he winces. I pull my hand away. "When I found out how bad it sucks to want someone who can't or won't or refuses to see you 'that way.'"

"So your wisdom is a recent development?" I ask with a grin, glad to put the spotlight on his misery.

"Nah. I've always been the smartest, but I let you think you were." A smile finally lights across his face. The storyteller and dialog-creator in me wants my baby brother to have his own happy ending.

"Okay G, I'll play Cyrano de Bergerac for you again, and without you sneaking into my scripts this time," I begin. He looks at me, confused, and I laugh. "Yeah, _you're_ the smarter brother! Ha! When Elisabeth comes and presents you with the donuts, tell her _she's_ the _angel_. Maybe don't tell her you're straight immediately. Let her get to know you before you make any moves on her."

"Should I like, act all fancy and dramatic?" he asks, with the most serious face I've seen on him.

"Is _that_ how I act?" I ask, rolling my eyes. If he wasn't already in a heap of pain, I'd hit the back of his head. "Stop perpetrating stereotypes. Just be yourself dude, just, you without all the hip thrusts and talking about which girl spent the night last night versus the night before. Listen to what she tells you about herself. Ask intelligent questions. If she tells you something that relates to you, mention it but don't make shit up." He takes it all in. I would roll my eyes, because I'm not really offering any secret tricks that will woo her—merely advice on how to politely interact with anyone, but if it helps him with this overwhelming shyness around her and gives him some confidence, it can't hurt. "Are you gonna be sober enough to take her back home?" I ask, figuring that should give him some time to try this tactic.

"Yeah."

"Good. Let's get you a bit more presentable." I stand up and extend a hand to him. He takes it and I help him up. "Brush your teeth first and foremost," I offer. "Change your clothes."

"Yes mom," he smiles, grabbing his toothbrush and spreading paste across the bristles. I feel better for helping him. The listlessness I've had since waking up has slightly lifted. "Do you have any plans this afternoon, or can I keep the car and run a couple errands before heading back to SB?"he asks, mouth full of foam and bubbles.

"It's yours," I reply. "Clearly I have no regard for the nice things I own, giving them to strangers, so why _not_ put it in your dubious-driving possession for an extended period of time?"

"Dude, I've been in only, like, five accidents."

"And wrecked five cars before Larry had the good sense to stop buying them for you!"

"That was two years ago, man! I've grown a lot since then."

"Two years of bumming rides has matured you?"

"Yup." He spits out the toothpaste and rinses out his mouth. "Mmm, water." He gulps down the entire cup and refills it for another drink. Some of it dribbles down his chin, reminding me of when he was a little boy.

I laugh and leave him to prepare. Ever the big brother, I head downstairs to assess the damage Gabe's party caused. There are piles of trash, bottles and cups scattered around, so I find the garbage bags and begin the process of cleaning up. As I clean, a few stragglers who spent the night stumble out the door. As one leaves through the front door, Elisabeth enters. It takes me a second to recognize her because instead of all-black, today she's wearing a light teal dress reminiscent of a diner waitress from the fifties.

"Hello! I come bearing gifts!" she exclaims, pink pastry box and a carrier with a few cups of coffee in hand.

"You made it home okay?" I ask as she sets the food and drinks down on the kitchen counter. She begins to busy herself picking up glasses and setting them in the sink as she answers.

"Yes, and thanks again. I realize that you don't even know me, so to give me your car was amazing. And you saved me what would have easily been an $80 cab ride. I filled your tank and brought you breakfast as a small way to thank you," she explains, gesturing to them.

"You didn't have to do that," I reply as I lift the lid to survey the donuts. I pick a glazed one and it's still warm. I bite into this sugary piece of heaven and moan.

"Yeah well, I figured you probably woke up freaking out that I was taking your wheels on a bank-robbing spree, so I figured it was the least I could do," she jokes as she begins washing out the cups. I snort.

"Close. I uh, couldn't decide whether you'd sold it as parts or driven to Mexico," I admit with a grin as I grab the milk from the fridge to pour myself a glass. She starts giggling. The couple who slept in Gabe's bed descends the stairs and leave with little more than a wave. I devour the rest of the donut and wash it down with the milk. Finishing the dishes, she grabs a coffee and pours several sugars into it before taking a sip and selecting a donut with sprinkles.

"So, do you live in your car?" she asks and then takes a bite. "You uh, seem to have a lot of stuff in the back," she explains. "I promise I didn't go through it!" I laugh.

"I'm uh, in the process of moving," I reply. "I'm actually based in LA so I'll be returning soon."

"You work in the industry?"

"Sort of, sometimes. I'm a writer. Occasionally that job descriptions includes scripts for movies, shows, pilots."

"Wow!" she enthuses. "I uh, teach drama at a high school. I would love to bring a script-writer in to lecture or run a workshop sometime," she replies. "I mean, you practically owe me for returning your vehicle in pristine condition _and_ not hawking all your stuff…" I laugh and nod, finding my brother's crush very charming.

"I'll think about it." I clarify, not wanting to commit to anything but also wanting a potential line of communication in case my brother continues being a bonehead. "Gabe should be down soon," I offer as she chews the last bite of her donut. She nods. "He'll take you back home," I explain.

"That would be awesome," she says with a grin. "I mean, it's a bit of a drive. I live in Calabasas," she admits, naming off a town almost an hour away.

"No worries. He's free today and I'm sure he won't mind," I smile at my inner-matchmaker's excitement over such a long drive. My brother hurries down the stairs. Instead of a t-shirt and beanie, he's brushed his hair and is wearing a pinkish button-down over a tank top. I wonder if this is his version of 'dressing to impress.'

"And here's the Angel Gabriel, himself!" Elisabeth exclaims. I raise my eyebrows and subtly nod hoping he picks up that now is the time to put what we discussed into action. He approaches the pink box.

"No, _you're_ the angel. How did you know long johns are my favorite?" he asks, picking up one with chocolate frosting. I wince at his unintentionally gay-sounding remark, but nod again to show my approval. Elisabeth smiles at the cheesy compliment and Gabe's ears turn pink at the tips. "Um, how was your morning?" he asks, attempting to follow my instructions. I couldn't be prouder.

"Good! Probably better than yours," she jokes. "Hangover?" she enquires, offering him a cup of coffee.

"Just slightly," he admits, taking the proffered cup and I roll my eyes considering how I found him this morning.

"Shaun said you could take me home?" she asks, looking between the two of us to confirm.

"Yes ma'am," he replies, grabbing the rest of the sugar packets to empty into his drink. "I'm ready when you are," he says, taking a swig from the styrofoam cup.

"Well then, I don't what to keep you guys away from any more of your day, so let's go," she agrees. Giving me a hug, she grabs her bag and searches through it.

I go to give my brother a low five and whisper some instructions to him: "Open doors. Listen. Ask questions." He nods and heads to the door after she pulls the keys from her purse and hands them to him. He opens the door and ushers her out.

"Thanks again Shaun," she waves and smiles. "I'll be in touch!" She hops through the door frame and Gabe bites his fist as he looks at me. The way he's trying so hard cracks me up. They leave and I look around. Convinced I covered most of the mess, I run upstairs and crawl back into bed.

For the first time since yesterday, I'm alone, really alone. I hug the pillow that still smells like Zach and let the tears stream down my face. I look at my pinkie where he drew the Z. It's faded a bit, but it's still there. I run my finger over it, tracing the letter and remembering the perfect day that lead to it. The pain and sadness, which were at bay while I was helping Gabe, are back full-force, and I can't bear much more before I have another freak-out. Knowing I have a few hours before my brother returns, I sigh and turn over, trying to go back to sleep


	63. Chapter 63

"**If love is shelter, I'm going to walk in the rain."**

** Anonymous**

Sleep is a long time coming. My brain won't shut off an endless loop of thoughts and memories: Zach that first night I kissed him and he kissed back, him catching me staring at his ass in the hardware store, the moment I realized I loved him. _What did I do wrong?_ Everything was going so well that I still feel in shock that he called it off so abruptly. I miss him doodling across my body with his fingers, and his enthusiasm for leaving love bites all over. _I didn't get enough time with him! _If I would have known how soon it would end, would I have done anything differently? _No._

I debate calling, asking "What did I do?" to potentially get a reason for why he suddenly changed his mind beyond the lame excuse that he didn't think he was ready. That was fucking bullshit anyway—it's not like I pressured him, at all. I sigh. Even being the most laid-back and nurturing boyfriend I could be didn't stop him from deciding that being alone was better than sneaking around with me. But he was _so close_ to being okay and open about it, I just know it! I remember our last time at the beach, when he held my hand the entire way back to the car, and his apologies about "being weird" about PDA at Kids Connection. I can't reconcile that sweet guy with the jerk in his car last night. The desire to call him returns—this time to tell him: "Guess what, asshole, Gabe didn't care. You ended the best thing in your life for nothing!" But that seems presumptuous and asinine. Not my style at all.

The tears have finally subsided and the pillow I was hugging is soaked. I toss it on the floor. Cody comes to mind, with his sweet nature and ability to ask for help when he needs it. He's already far more evolved than his uncle is if he can do that. I remember how he needed help "forty-fiving" his castle, and how originally Zach didn't want me near him. While that stung pretty bad, it just made when Zach trusted me to be alone with him even sweeter. _Cody was _never_ embarrassed to hold my hand_, I think, picturing how he'd insist on holding both our hands to do flips on the beach. _Well, I guess he won't get spoiled rotten now that I won't be around_, I bitterly tell myself.

I feel spent after crying, and don't want to be so jaded and harsh in my thoughts, so I close my eyes and focus on clearing my brain. Envisioning a white light, I direct my mind on that and let the angry and hurtful and painful memories and ideas drift away. I must have fallen asleep, because my ringing phone startles me. I grab it in a hurry, holding onto the hope that Zach's changed his mind. My brother's name and photo appear on the screen, and while it isn't Zach, I'm anxious to hear about his ride, so I answer.

"Hey G. Did you drop Elisabeth off?"

"Yeah dude, I'm parked on the street outside her place calling you. The engine's off because I'm being like, so cautious driving your baby." I chuckle at the thought of safety-minded Gabe being the only one in California obeying the don't-drive-and-talk-on-the-phone laws.

"That's good to hear, bro. So…how'd it go?"

"Good. I did what you said and it totally worked. I asked her about her work and came up with thoughtful replies, and I only told one little tiny lie, but it won't be a lie when I get back to SB. Did you know she's a teacher?"

"Yeah, she mentioned it…" I begin, but he cuts me off.

"At a Catholic school. As in little plaid skirts. _Naughty_ _little school-girl outfits_. Dude—do you think she has one?" I roll my eyes at what intrigued him about her occupation.

"You said you lied?" I ask, hoping to get his mind off imagining her dressed like Britney Spears.

"Uh, yeah. She also teaches a few courses at the community college and online."

"Drama classes online?" I ask.

"Feminist Studies." I can hear him gulp over the phone. "I uh, told her I was taking a couple of those classes next semester," he admits. "When I get back, I'm gonna change up a couple of my electives." A deep laugh shoots out of me at the thought of Gabe in a feminist theory class. "Uh, what's so funny?" he asks, confused.

"Nothing," I snort back. "I think that you'll do well to take some of those courses," I offer, trying to stop laughing. "What else did you learn about on your drive?"

"She thinks we're like, the nicest guys ever. Her kid sister's friends with Billy but she thinks he's a tool. I agreed with her on that because he is a bit douchey. I told her he was one of those friends-of-friends type of people so that's how he came to be at the party but that we're not bros or anything."

"Yeah, he didn't impress me either," I admit.

"When did you hang out with Billy?" he asks.

"Oh, uh, that first day I went surfing with Zach. There was a bonfire afterwards. He was a bit of a creep. Dropped the 'F' word so I bailed. The girls seem to like him though."

"Yeah, I don't get it," he mutters. I find it a bit ironic considering they have a similar shtick, though Gabe is much less offensive.

"I uh, told her about you. That you were seeing my best friend Zach, but you're not good company 'cause you just broke up…I uh, didn't want her thinking like, you were available or interested in her, you know, _like that_." I shake my head at his self-preserving move, but I can't be mad.

"That's fine."

"I was right, she thought it was sweet that I was so cool with my brother and best friend being together." I imagine him preening while he says this.

"But you won't have to worry about that now though," I sigh, refusing to tear up with my brother on the phone.

"I uh, wasn't gonna say anything, but one of my errands today is visiting him," he admits. The line is silent. I inhale.

"That's…good. You _should_ spend time with your best friend. I told you, what happened between us has no impact on your friendship."

"I'm, uh, planning to talk to him. About you." I wince.

"It's your conversation, Gabe. Say your piece, but don't…don't think you can _fix_ anything. Just like I have nothing to do with your friendship, you had nothing to do with us," I choke out. _Us_. My stomach burns at the thought, but within that burn, a tiny spark of hope illuminates the darkness. _If he sees that Gabe is cool with it, maybe he'll come back. _Or maybe I'm an idiot.

"No worries man. I have my own issues to discuss as well. Like why he's been a crummy friend. Why he bailed last night and didn't say goodbye. It's not all about the two of you," my brother manages to turn it around to him. "I haven't even had the chance to talk to him about Elisabeth," he laments.

"I'm sure your conversation will go well," I assure him.

"You were right on about stuff I should say with Elisabeth, got any advice for this one?" he asks.

"Dude, I am not getting involved. At all."

"Just thought I'd ask. I still feel like crap dude. A couple times I had to really focus on the road to keep from puking again driving here," he admits. I shudder at the thought. "So I'll do my best with Zach. Maybe he'll tell me what's up."

"Whatever man," I act as passive as possible. I don't want to influence what he says to or asks Zach, but would be grateful for any intel he gathers on that particular subject. "Just…be kind." I can't help adding that last bit, even now wanting to make Zach's life a tiny bit easier.

"Sure thing bro. Okay, I'm gonna start the car, so peace out."

"Peace out." I disconnect the phone and debate trying to sleep. There's no way I can nap while I know he's visiting Zach, so I get out of bed and decide I need to visit the beach. Since I can't drive somewhere to surf, I change into board shorts and hike to the private beach out back.

I sit just beyond the tide line and look at the horizon. Wrapping my arms around my legs, I prop my chin up on my knees and hug myself, letting my thoughts and doubts and memories wash over me like the ever-approaching waves.


	64. Chapter 64

I torture myself with more memories, these ones more physical: all the times we "conserved water" by showering together, the time on his couch when we were watching Cody so nothing could officially happen but I ended up being so turned on I needed to go home to a cold shower, just hugging him when he brought Codes over for dinner that first night. I think about how he was willing to try things, even things that made him a little uncomfortable, and how seriously smokin' hot he is, not that he ever realized he was. Then I think back to the time he first called me "Sweetheart," after I had that awkward melt-down and how he didn't ever bring it up again after I said I wanted to forget about it. _Sweetheart_. My eyes feel exhausted as they begin tearing up again, and I decide to expend some energy by getting up and throwing myself in the water.

I begin swimming, pushing myself farther and farther away from the shore. My strokes start out choppy and stilted as I just try to project myself _away_. Away from the pain and misery I've experienced over the past 24 hours, away from feeling not good enough, away from the self-doubt and "what ifs…" that have been plaguing my head and my heart. Eventually my strokes even out, but I keep going, further, pushing myself until the only thing I can focus on is moving the muscles in my arms and legs to propel myself forward, going and going until I slow down from sheer exhaustion. I finally quit and bob upright treading water as I assess where I ended up.

The house looks a tiny toy from where I now am. Deciding to take a break before making my way back, I float on my back for a while. I wonder how Gabe's talk with Zach is going. How Zach will react when his best friend tells him he knows. Will it matter to Zach? Will it change his opinion on us? Or would he have ended it yesterday even with Gabe's approval and blessing? I remember the cab ride when Zach grabbed my hand and I jokingly asked if he was looking for clues into the future. I lift my hand and look at the Z, which has faded even more with my swim in the Pacific. I look back at the house.

Maybe it's time to pack up and head back to LA. Maybe that's why Zach ended it. What if he was waiting for me to go back and our relationship would just sort of fade out with the distance and end naturally. But when I said yesterday morning that I was pretty happy here, he realized that wouldn't be happening soon enough and he'd had enough. What if I was too needy? Maybe he was annoyed that I was determined to always to spend his free time with him. And what if he thought I was pushy, insisting on doing only what I wanted to do? Maybe the restaurant was the last straw on what he was willing to put up with—he didn't really want to go I know, but thought he was humoring me by going. I'm glad to be in the salt water, where my tears are indistinguishable from my surroundings. _He said he loved me. He _did_ love me!_

I sigh and decide to direct myself back home. Using much less energy to return, it takes a significantly longer time to return to the shore. I lie down on the sand and let the air dry me as I shiver more from the worthlessness I feel than being cold. Eventually my skin feels itchy and I force myself to get up and walk back. My fingers graze the sand and I remember the stupid hearts I drew for him, and saying I wanted to return to CalArts for a sand art degree. _CalArts! Shit_! I still have his portfolio and application! I run through the calendar in my head and realize the deadline is either tomorrow or the next day.

No matter how I feel about how we ended things, I have always believed in his talent. I consider asking Gabe to take it back to him and then reject that idea. I doubt he'd send it in. The part of me that wants the best for this old family friend, the one who exchanged awed glances with Sylvia over his art as a child, wants to give him his best chance, a better one than he'd likely give himself with his obligations to his family. I start jogging back to the beach house, intent to at least give his future a shot at the chance he didn't give us.

I arrive home and see my car in the drive. Gabe's home! I wipe my eyes to make sure no stray tears have slipped down before entering the house. Gabe's sitting at the table eating another donut, zoning out. I wonder if he's stoned and debate what I should say. I don't want to ask how it went, don't want to even acknowledge where he went, but I am desperate to know what Zach said and how he looked.

"Oh, hey bro. You look, uh, sandy," Gabe gives me a small smile.

"I was, uh, at the beach. Swimming," I explain, before stepping back outside and brushing off some of the sand that still clings to me. I come back inside. I don't have any words. I don't want to ask but feel ready to beg for information. Instead I go to the refrigerator and pull out a bottle of water. I stand there, near the counter and drink it, feeling awkward and stupid hoping he'll just start talking, because if I have to ask, I might start crying. I feel myself getting worked up and try to focus on my breathing. By my fourteenth inhalation, Gabe speaks.

"Uh, dunno if you wanna know about it, but I talked to Zach." I slightly nod and wait, continuing my breathing. "He looked just as bad as you do. I told him I knew, about him being gay. And that I was alright with it. He was pretty defensive—told me not to tell anyone." My heart hurts for Zach if he still feels the need to hide that part of himself. "I told him it was weird that it was you, and he apologized. I told him not to be sorry. I tried to joke a little, you know, lighten up the situation, and he bit my head off. I called him out on being a jerk friend, and he threw it back at me." He sighs. "You're right Shaun, something's up. I've uh, never seen him that angry over anything, ever. I hugged him and said we were still bros and left."

I nod, taking it all in as I bite my cheeks to keep from asking questions. _How did he look? What did he say about me? _

"It was pretty sad, but have hope, brother." I look up, confused at how his talk with his hostile friend could be looked at as hopeful. "He misses you."

"Gabe, you can't know that," I begin, touched that he'd want to lift my spirits, but in no mood to get my hopes up.

"Well, I don't _know_ it. I _saw_ it. You don't wear the clothes of someone you just dumped unless you still love them," he says quietly.

"What?"

"He was wearing your baggy old blue sweater. I know Zach. He could have worn anything else, but he's wearing your sweater. That's no accident." _Branded_. He's still wearing my stuff! If he's still "marking" himself with my stuff, maybe there _is_ hope. Thoughts of packing up for LA leave my mind as I decide to give him time, and haven't I _always_ given him the time he needs?

"Uh, thanks for the update, G. I'm gonna head upstairs and shower off the salt water and sand." I give him a high five.

"Cool bro. Joel's coming by soon to take me back to Santa Barbara. I have finals on my summer school classes tomorrow and the next day. I'm, uh, gonna come back for a while after that before the fall semester starts," he tells me, nodding. "I made plans to hang out with Elisabeth next week," he continues, cheeks turning a light pink. I smile.

"That's great bro," I tell him with as much enthusiasm as I can muster. "If you leave before I'm done, have a save drive, and I'll see you soon," I offer as I grab him in a hug. He pats my back before pulling away with his own words of wisdom.

"The sex will be great if you have to wait!" he exclaims with a wink. "I have the feeling we'll both be waiting a little while, dude." I roll my eyes and bop his head before heading upstairs.


	65. Chapter 65

I walk into the shower and realize this might not be the best idea. Memories of times with Zach in here assault me. Sighing, I wrap a towel around my waist and pad out to the hallway and go into a guest room, avoiding Cody's Bat Cave as well. Gabe looks up and sees me, sending me a questioning look.

"Can't bear using mine," I explain as concisely as possibly so he's not assaulted by his own unwanted images. I wander into the guest bathroom and sigh. No special significance or memories are associated with this one, and my bruised emotions breathe a sigh of relief as I step into this shower and begin washing sand and salt from my body. I'm careful not to use my Z pinkie, wanting to retain this last branding Zach made on my body for as long as possible. I make short work of cleaning and get out to dry off.

I see that Gabe is gone as I return to my room. The sun is nearing the ocean, and I debate just going to bed super-early, but decide against it. I need to get Zach's application sent in. Finding some clean clothes, I throw them on. Considering I haven't eaten more than a donut today, I take myself to the kitchen, even though eating doesn't seem remotely appealing. I make myself a sandwich and force it down with a beer I found in the fridge. Grabbing my laptop, I look for a 24-hour business center that will hold the package tonight and deliver first-thing in the morning.

I determine the closest one and write down the address. I go to my stack of files and paperwork and pull out the portfolio, application, and scholarship forms. Cody's sand art stares back at me. I refuse to be bitter about earning his love and I smile as I run my finger over his stick figure family I wanted so bad. Before I can settle into depression over it, I move away to look through everything Zach filled out. It seems good to go. I find a manila envelope and before sealing it all inside, I kiss the application for good luck. Thankful nobody was there to see, I feel a flush creep up my neck at doing such a dorky thing. I grab my pen and fill out the address, then consider where to send it from.

If Zach doesn't get accepted (and I can't imagine that happening, because being an alumni, I've seen the art that students there create, and his is just as good), I don't want him getting a rejection letter, further confirming for him how unimportant his art should be to his life. If and when he does get accepted, I'd rather have Gabe take him that information if he's still avoiding me. I fill out the beach house's address in the 'From:' field.

I grab the keys Gabe left on the counter and notice he took the box of donuts. I wonder if it's because he foresees future munchies or because of the person who brought them. I pick up the package and leave the house, hugging it to my chest. I spend the drive to the business center wondering if Zach will even take a scholarship if it's offered to him. The money in my bank account could easily pay for his years of schooling if he didn't get a scholarship. I wonder how hard it would be to create one for him to possibly win, and then ask myself, _What the fuck am I even thinking? _Shaking my head at that desperate thought, I continue driving, blocking out thoughts and just keeping my mind on the road.

I pull into the parking lot, which is pretty dead. I grab the envelope and run inside, then schedule the early morning pick-up and get a guarantee it will arrive tomorrow afternoon. Satisfied I've done everything I could to get him into art school, I pay and leave to head back home. By the time I pull into the Pacific Bluffs, the sun has set and I'm feeling exhausted. Glad to be ready for sleep, I throw my clothes on the floor, next to the still-damp pillow from earlier. I crawl into bed and try not to breathe too deeply, fearing I'll smell him. I debate sleeping in the guest room, but I don't have it in me to pull myself from the sheets that once held us together. The memories don't seem so unbearable in the dark. "Sleep well," I whisper to the silence, grateful I made it through the day.

I wake the next morning to my phone ringing. My arms stumble around, searching for it as my eyes, which feel puffy and swollen after a day of crying, pry themselves open and blink several times, trying to focus. I find the phone, and using one eye to squint as the other stays closed, I see Gabe on the screen. I also notice the time. _What the hell is Gabe doing calling at eight in the morning?_

"Hey G," I groan. "This is unexpected, a call from you before noon."

"Yeah, sorry dude. I waited till eight at least," he apologizes, and I immediately wake up, alert and concerned.

"Oh, God. What's wrong, is Zach okay?" I ask, immediately thinking the worst.

"No, what? No, this isn't about Zach. Everything's fine," he assures me.

"Then why are you calling this early?"

"Elisabeth texted me asking for your number. She thinks her wallet may have fallen out of her purse," he explains. I grin. He's got it _so bad_ if he's jumping at helping her find it this early in the morning.

"So, did you give it to her, my number?" I ask, confused as to why he didn't just let her call me.

"Yeah, but I just wanted you to you know, go check," he replies.

"I see. So she's waiting for a decent time to call, but you figured it would be fine for me to go look for it earlier?" I ask, trying to understand his thinking process. Considering I was ready to create a fake scholarship last night, I really shouldn't be judging.

"Dude, you called me for batteries way earlier than this a while back," he challenges me, and I have to agree.

"Fine, I'm up. Lemme go downstairs and check," I gripe as I sit up and stretch before stumbling down the stairs. I find my keys and go outside. Unlocking the doors, I walk to the passenger side and open the door. I look at the floorboard and see nothing. Shoving my hand under the seat, I find nothing. I look between the seat and the console and get lucky; a sparkly pink wallet that's definitely not mine is stuck in between. I pry it from its hiding place and open to see Elisabeth's ID. Bingo.

"Hey bro, yeah. It's here."

"Oh, good! I was about to call the donut shop's number printed on this box to see if it was left there maybe," he utters.

"Gabe, you don't have to try so hard. There's a fine line between attentive and stalking," I explain as I return indoors.

"So, does that mean you won't tell me her birthday?" he earnestly asks.

"Yes, that's exactly what that means, weirdo."

"Fine. Don't help me out," he rants, and I choke out a laugh.

"I think you forget the reason you've been able to talk to her is thanks to me, little brother."

"Yeah I guess. Fine, be that way. I gotta go sail through another test. See you in a day or two. Give Elisabeth my regards when you talk to her."

"Love you too, Gabe." I roll my eyes and decide to eat breakfast rather than try to go back to sleep.

I walk to the fridge and grab milk. Finding Rice Krispies, I pour them into a bowl and add banana slices. I see my laptop and decide to spend the morning focusing on work rather than being sad about my tragic love life.


	66. Chapter 66

Opening up the book to write isn't nearly as difficult as I feared it would be. The words still come and my muse hasn't abandoned me even though my story's inspiration did. I wonder if the reason I can still write is because I when I started the book, my relationship with Zach hadn't gone beyond surfing together and I began with the intention that I would be writing a fanciful, fictional, what-if scenario. Regardless, I'm grateful and attack my story.

After about an hour of writing, I take a break from working on the plot and begin working on edits. Whenever I near the end of a story, I do this, looking for grammatical and spelling errors as well as storyline inconsistencies or holes. While writing new content was easy, starting at the beginning and reading through becomes painful. I remember where I was in _my_ _personal_ story when the fictional events occurred. I decide to take a walk and clear my head before I begin tearing up again.

I grab a sweatshirt and throw a beanie on, then walk toward the shore. I can feel my phone sitting in my pocket, its presence seems heavy and my subconscious finally convinces me to do what it's wanted to do since Zach drove off. I pull it out and open it as I plop down on a huge piece of driftwood a short distance from the waves. Scrolling through my contacts, I slowly go from A to Z, giving myself plenty of time to stop. I land at Zach's name, press 'call,' and hold it to my ear, hoping. After the second ring, I hear his voice and my heart stops as I inhale. "This is Zach. Leave a message." _Sent to voicemail. Ouch!_ I sigh and hang up.

I refuse to dwell on this new slight, as it's so small in comparison the rest of Zach's rejection. Glumly I shove my cell back in my pocket and look to the ocean for solace. It provides no answers, but its consistency and repetition combined with the sound of the waves lapping the sand are calming. My tranquility is interrupted by a peal coming from my pocket. _Zach!_ I stand up to gain access to my phone quicker, only to see a number I don't recognize on the screen instead of my beloved's name and face. Sighing, I sit back down and answer.

"Hello."

"Hi, is this Shaun?" a voice I recognize asks.

"Hi Elisabeth," I reply, trying not to sound as disappointed as I feel. "I have your wallet."

"Oh thank goodness!" she exclaims. "I've been looking all over for it!"

"Yeah I heard," I relate, before realizing I don't want to reveal Gabe's stalker status and decide to keep my mouth shut about his frantic, early-morning call. "That sucks, losing your wallet," I lamely add.

"Well, luckily you've got it. Are you home? I could head that way and be there within an hour…" she begins, and I feel sorry for her hour-long one-way commute.

"How about I meet you half-way?" I offer, deciding it might behoove me to get out of the house for a while.

"Really? That, that would be great!" she accepts enthusiastically.

"How about we meet at Rae's Restaurant for lunch?" I propose, naming off a funky diner in Santa Monica.

"Perfect. I can be there in 40 minutes."

"I'll see you then," I conclude and hang up. I stand up from my driftwood seat and hike back to the beach house_. It will be good to be around people in public and not wallow in self-pity surrounded by memories_, I tell myself as I grab my wallet, Elisabeth's wallet, and my keys. Determined to make it a good afternoon, I jump in my vehicle and make myself turn the radio up and put the windows down on my drive. I insistently hum along to whatever music is playing, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel at the stops. I pull into the parking lot with five minutes to spare and a slightly lifted attitude.

The waitress seats me in a booth and I order an iced tea as I peruse the menu. I avoid the breakfast listings after the word 'pancake' jumps out at me and stirs up memories of another meal in another diner.

"Hi there!" Elisabeth's voice startles me out of my recollections. Today she's wearing a several-sizes-too-large garish Hawaiian-print shirt with palm fronds and rainbows and tiny surfers. It's belted over some leggings and makes a sort of dress on her as little tiki men dangle from her ears. She notices me taking in her wild outfit. "We're doing a summer production of _Our Town_, set in the tropics," she explains with a grin, kicking up her sandaled heel.

"I see," I reply, handing her the missing wallet.

"Thanks so much for meeting me here," she exclaims as she scoots into the booth opposite me.

"No problem. I uh, don't have much on my agenda for the day and it's good to get out of the house, you know?"

"Yeah. Gabriel said you've had a tough time lately…" she trails off.

"Right. But I'll survive, somehow, I guess."

"Heartbreak's the worst. Your brother mentioned it was his best friend? That's gotta be rough. At least you have _your_ friends to lean on, right?" she offers with a small smile.

"Hmm, a bit. I actually don't live in Long Beach; I'm just visiting. So when Gabe's friend, Zach, came into the picture, we just sort of happened. And, my, uh, network of friends is primarily in LA where I'll be returning to soon. It's been a pretty weird summer," I explain with a shrug. She grabs a menu as she nods.

"It's times like these when you call up _your_ best friend in the whole wide world and go to a bar and sing some bad karaoke. I promise—that's the best therapy in the world for a break up. And cheaper than a therapist too!" Her smile is contagious and I find myself grinning back at the idea.

"Ha! Yeah, except I'm not really on speaking terms with my 'best friend' and I'm not much of a singer."

"No best friend either? It must have been a _very_ weird summer," she sympathizes. Her warmth and open face, along with the fact that I have been essentially around the same few people a lot lately compel me to open up to her in a way I might not have if circumstances were different.

"Well, before I ran into Zach, I was in a three-year relationship. I uh, found him in bed with my best friend, so I concluded I didn't need either of them in my life and packed my belongings…"

"Hence the car-full of stuff…" she cuts in. I nod.

"…And came out to my folks' house while I waited for my new place to become available," I continue. The waitress comes back and Elisabeth orders a coffee.

"So you're down a best friend, a home, and two boyfriends in a matter of a couple months? You, my friend, are a prime candidate for heartache karaoke, and I happen to know a great place for that tomorrow night if you're interested," she offers as the waitress sets a mug in front of her and takes our orders. I get a hamburger and Elisabeth orders a chicken sandwich.

I shake my head as she empties several packs of sugar into the cup and stirs before taking a sip. "No, that's okay," I try to graciously decline her kindness. "Thanks for the offer though. That's very sweet of you."

"Forget sweet, I was hoping to get you drunk enough to agree to help me with a script-writing workshop for the kids group I work with over the summer. We've got a nonexistent budget so everyone I know and meet gets recruited in some way to help. Gabriel's promised to assist with a set-building workshop scheduled next week," she explains as I take a sip of my tea. The thought of Gabe (who actually _is_ pretty decent with tools) offering to help makes me laugh though and tea sprays out of me and across the table.

"Is he not very handy?" she asks with a confused look on her face.

"No, he is. I'm just surprised he's offered to help during his short break between summer school and when regular classes resume."

"I can be pretty convincing. I didn't even have to get him drunk," she confides to me with a wink. I chuckle.

"I'll bet."

"And if the alcohol didn't work, I was prepared to video your singing and threaten to blackmail you into helping the poor, underprivileged children," she exclaims, now batting her eyelashes at me. I give in.

"Fine, what's involved with a workshop?" I ask.

"It's up to you really," she begins. "If you wanna introduce a topic and have kids write and work that way, or you can focus on dialog, or plot development, setting, the differences between comedy and drama, anything you can think of, really …" I consider this. I want to stick around the beach house for another week or so at least, in case Gabe's right and Zach still does want to be with me and decides he is ready for us, publicly. But I can't sit around the house all day moping and being depressed. I know that helping others will improve my outlook and I genuinely like this woman. I slowly begin to nod.

"I'll see what I can come up with," I offer. A mega-watt grin erupts over her face and she bounces in her seat.

"Oh my God thank you so much!" she squeals as the waitress reappears with our food. "Now, you can dress the part of a writer if you want, in fact I encourage it," she explains with a grin. I remember the day Zach found me in my robe and my mom's scarf with the bubble pipe and sigh, taking a bite of my burger. I resolve to accept the fact that things are going to remind me of him, probably several times a day. I can't let that, or the fear of that, dictate my life or my decisions or my happiness.

"I don't know about that," I begin. "But if it's still on the table, I'd like to take you up on your karaoke offer tomorrow night," I swallow, wondering what I'm getting myself into but determined be more social. I have been in my own little bubble with Zach and it would be so easy to continue that way, now without him, into a hermit-like existence.

"Of course it is! You clearly need new friends, and I need to sing!" She smiles and it's infectious. We settle into eating and the silence is peaceable. I think of what I could possibly come up with for a workshop as I finish my fries. _Already_, it's nice to have something else to think about and focus my attention on.

The waitress returns with the bill and Elisabeth snatches it up and returns it with her newly-returned card before I can even grab my wallet. "It's on me Shaun," she explains with a smile.

"Oh, thanks," I mumble. The waitress returns with the printed receipt and a couple mints. I pop one into my mouth.

"No, thank you! I have a feeling we're going to be good friends," she declares as she signs the returned bill and slips her card back into her wallet, then puts that securely in her purse. "Tomorrow should be fun!" she exclaims as we leave Rae's. She envelops me in a big hug before taking off for her car. "I'll call you tomorrow afternoon!" she cries over her shoulder as I reach my vehicle. I wave and get in starting the car. I pull out of the parking lot to head back home, feeling enthusiastic about the next week, which is a whole hell of a lot more than I could say before I pulled in.


	67. Chapter 67

My drive back to Long Beach is much lighter and I don't feel like I have to force myself to act upbeat. I get home and change into board shorts, grab some sunglasses, and take myself to lounge by the pool and reflect. Regardless of whether Zach and I are able to work things out in the future, looking back over the last several weeks, my life, nearly every aspect of it, has been about him. With the exception of Tony, I've seen no friends while here. Even when I returned to LA, while there my intent was to return to Zach and our bubble as soon as possible. Even my work-both the time I scheduled myself to write, and the inspiration for my book-was influenced by my relationship with Zach.

I consider the situation from a step back. If a friend of mine was dealing with the same heartache after a relatively short period of time, I'd be concerned about how much they were investing in such a new relationship. I know I need to refocus my attention on my work, my relationships with family and friends, and _my life_, which has essentially been on hold since I came here; I resolve to make these changes. Much like I had to make myself turn up the radio and hum along, I realize I'm going to have to fake being social and just go out and _do_ things even when I'd rather stay home and watch my phone as I wait for a call that may never come.

That being said, I can't help but take into consideration what Gabe shared about his visit to Zach. _He's still wearing my clothes!_ That's _got_ to mean something, right? With any other ex, that could be a coincidence or the byproduct of a desperate need to do laundry, but we _talked_ about the significance of it, more than once. I mull this over, and combined with my resolution to get on with my life, I'm at an emotional impasse. Zach's worth waiting for, but I can't wait around forever for him to realize I'm worth it too. After much poolside consideration, I decide to give him two weeks to get his shit together.

I gave him a call and he didn't answer. I won't bug him again, and if he doesn't contact me over the next two weeks, I decide that I've given him more than enough time and will return to LA. But during this time, I won't wallow in sadness, alone and waiting. Instead, I will resume my life, I will go out, and I will spend time with friends and make new ones. As much as I love Zach, he can't be my everything. So tomorrow I will go to karaoke and I will enjoy myself. I will volunteer for that workshop and I will call my friends and meet up with them. I won't be that pathetic person who hyperventilated when Zach told a dumb joke about making out with my brother. I know I rolled my eyes often at Zach's inability to be open and honest about his true self, but this situation has shown me that there's plenty of room for improvement in me personally as well. And if we _can_ make it work out, I'll be the better for it by working on my own flaws and concerns.

I feel better having made these decisions and I know that there are still issues that I'll grapple with and my improved mood won't be a constant feeling, but just having a semblance of a plan comforts me and will allow me to focus on something more when the overwhelming sadness hits next time. I pull myself up from the lounge chair and shuffle inside. I return to my laptop and sit down to get back to work, but decide to be kind to myself as well. I avoid edits for right now, determining to do them when I'm more up for the task of remembering.

A few hours fall away as I lose myself writing. I quit for the day and make myself a PBJ for dinner. I contemplate tomorrow night. _Karaoke—oh God!_ I have a terrible singing voice, so that should be interesting. I consider my plan and decide to invite some friends along for the humiliation. I grab my phone to put the word out to my local friends as it rings in my hand. My stomach drops and I quickly wonder if it's the call I feared I'd be waiting for. I open my cell to find my brother's goofy face on the screen.

"Hey brother," I greet him with a sigh.

"Shauny-poo! How did Operation Wallet-Return go? Did Elisabeth mention me?" I have to laugh at Gabe's single-mindedness.

"Actually, yes. She said that _Gabriel_ would be helping with set-building next week. When are you going to tell her you go by Gabe, huh?"

"Um, probably after a get to third base, maybe."

"Classy G. Classy," I laugh.

"So, uh, what else did you talk about?" he attempts to wheedle information out of me.

"It looks like I'll be running a script-writing workshop next week, and…" I pause and take a gulp before continuing. "…singing, er, tomorrow night."

"What?"

"She's very convincing. Somehow I agreed to karaoke tomorrow night." Gabe begins laughing hysterically. After several seconds, he finally calms down and I continue. "Apparently it's good for the broken heart or something."

"Oh God."

"I think I'm gonna invite some friends along," I confide, wanting to get my intentions out into the universe. "I've put so much of my life on hold these past few weeks and want to get back into the swing of things."

"Awesome bro. I thought I'd have to beg to come along, but consider me there, dude!" he exclaims enthusiastically.

"Gabe, this is about me dealing with pain and embracing parts of my life I've been ignoring, not getting you laid," I not-so-patiently explain.

"You don't think I'm a friend who wants to help you heal?" he asks. "I am like, _so_ offended dude!"

"Fine. Come along for karaoke. We'll sing a duet. It'll be…special," I shoot back.

"Excellent. Let's tape it and send it to Mom and Larry," Gabe plays along.

"Perfect."

"Alright. See you tomorrow after my last test, then."

"You got it. See you then, _Gabriel_," I laugh and hang up, grateful for my ridiculous brother.

I text a few friends mentioning karaoke tomorrow if anyone's interested. The replies that come back are humorously shocked and witty and are the perfect reminders of the amazing people I have in my life that I haven't spent time with lately. I'm impressed that a few people will make themselves available for my singing debut regardless of how awful they know I'll sound. I smile, genuinely excited for tomorrow's festivities.

My introspective and emotional day has tired me out, so I decide to call it an early night and run upstairs. Throwing off my clothes, I crawl into bed. I notice the smell of Zach has grown fainter. But that's okay. I let the sadness wash over me. It stings, but I can handle it right now. I can see a point where the pain won't be so bad and know that even if it hurts, I'll be surrounded by people who love me. I flip over and cuddle with a pillow that Zach used, inhaling deeply. Even now, the pain's receded a bit. _Sleep well, Zach._


	68. Chapter 68

When I wake up the next morning, the sun is shining brightly from high in the sky. I sit up and stretch, finding it difficult to believe how long I slept. The clock tells me it's almost noon. I don't feel sluggish like I usually do from sleeping too long, so I assume my body needed the extended rest. I crawl out of bed and debate what to do next. Looking at my bathroom, I sigh and force myself to walk toward it. The shower still seems haunted by memories of Zach, but I shake my head at my ridiculousness.

I turn the water on and allow the temperature to adjust to a comfortable level before ducking under the falling water. I wash my hair vigorously as I begin mentally reciting the states in alphabetical order in an attempt to not get emotional. I get to Idaho when my hair is done and grab shower gel and sponge to clean the rest of my body before I remember that Illinois is next in line. I continue through the states and am done scrubbing by West Virginia. I shut the water off as I reach the final one at Wyoming. Proud of myself, I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my waist as I smile into the mirror, and decide it's time for a change.

I rub my jaw, which has been more scruffy than usual because Zach liked it. Deciding it's way too long for my liking, I grab my razor and shaving cream and go about ridding my face of the fuzz. Clean-shaven, I rinse off the razor and return it then wash off the remaining foam before leaving the bathroom. I look down at my hand and turn it over, palm-up. The Z on my pinkie is so very faint that I'm unsure someone would notice it unless they knew what they were looking for. I can't decide if I should scrub it off entirely or not, and decide to leave it for now.

I grab an old t-shirt and jeans from the closet and get dressed before grabbing my phone to see a text from Gabe saying he'd finished his final test and was on his way home until school starts back up next month. It will be interesting to have him as a roommate for the next couple weeks, but I look forward to spending an extended amount of time with my brother now that we're both adults, or as adult-like as Gabe can be.

I stash my phone in my pocket and run downstairs. Today I plan to finish revisions to the ghost script to submit for review. I Grab a pear and begin eating as I pull up the document and my email. I check my messages and reply to the important ones. I delve into the script and lose myself in the story of a man who's also lost the love of his life. I'm currently working on a dream-scene where he's talking to his ghost wife, telling her everything he wishes he'd said while she was still alive, and though the scenario is very different than mine, the idea of saying what you never got the chance to say speaks to me. My eyes tear up as I write the dialog. But rather than being sad, heartbroken tears, these are cathartic. It feels lightening to be able to have at least my character, being ultimately an extension of myself, have a final conversation with his beloved.

The words are powerful, and as I take a break, I consider the workshop I promised to lead. I open a new document and jot down some notes on ideas and possible themes. While I'm immersed in thought, my phone chirps. I open it and am proud I don't immediately tense up assuming it might be Zach. The number looks familiar but isn't saved so I answer it. Elisabeth's voice greets me.

"We're still on for tonight, right? You're not gonna chicken out on me, are you?"

"Yeah, I'm ready to make a fool out of myself," I reply with a grin. "And I'm bringing some witnesses."

"Excellent. If you'd like, I can pick you up," she offers. Seeing as how the thought of public humiliation via song scares me, I definitely will need some liquid courage before taking a microphone.

"Sounds good to me. Just tell me when and where we're going so I can spread the word."

"Dolphin Bar in Redondo Beach," she tells me. "How 'bout I pick you up around 8:30 and we shoot to arrive at 9:00?"

"You got it," I concur. "Oh, my brother might be joining us," I begin.

"Oh yeah. Gabriel mentioned he might be coming back in time to go when I spoke to him last night. That's fine; I've got room for him too," she offers. "But he's gotta promise to sing too."

"We're gonna do a duet," I admit, chuckling at the thought of making Gabe stick to this plan and knowing his singing is even worse than mine.

"Awesome! I'll see you tonight then!" she replies enthusiastically.

"See you tonight." I hang up the call then save her number before texting the location and time to the friends who agreed to come along last night.

A while later, while I'm grabbing a drink from the kitchen, I hear someone at the door. Gabe enters with a knapsack and two duffel bags.

"Hey dude, how's it hanging?" he asks in typical surfer dude fashion. He drops his bags and greets me with a firm, close-fisted pat on the back as I roll my eyes at his question. "But seriously bro. You okay?" he asks, genuine concern in his eyes.

Not wanting to have a heart-to-heart right now, I deflect. "I told you Gabe. I'll be fine. Nothing big brother can't handle," I finish, grasping his head under my arm and giving him a noogie.

"Dude! Don't mess with the hair, Shauny!" he exclaims in mock horror.

"What's with the drama queen impersonation?" I ask, confused.

"Just getting into character. I looked up the place we're going to tonight. It's a gay bar."

"Gabe, you're a nut. Just be yourself. And you two have obviously hit it off if you're talking a lot. Maybe it's time to 'come out' to her and tell her you're interested."

"I mean, I will. Obviously I want to but she like, takes me seriously and listens to me and values my opinions and shit. I don't wanna just, like, lose that and have her think I'm a liar."

"Do you think that maybe it has less to do with her thinking you're gay and more to do with the fact that you've been taking her seriously and listening to her and valuing her opinions?" I ask my silly, smitten brother.

"Uh, I dunno. Maybe but I don't wanna jinx it. What if she hates me?"

I take a breath and wonder when I became a relationship therapist, especially considering my own lousy track record. "Have you been yourself? Gabe-on-his-best-behavior, but Gabe nonetheless?" He considers this and nods. "Then she won't have any reason to hate you," I encourage. "You're actually pretty charming and loveable when you're not annoying the hell out of me," I offer with a smile.

"You too bro." He pauses for an awkward second. "I'm uh, I'm gonna call Zach and let him know I'm back for a while," he details slowly. Now it's my turn to nod.

"Good." Gabe looks relieved. "G, I don't want what happened to impact your guys' friendship. Call him. Meet up. Have fun. Okay?"

"Okay man. I'm gonna go unpack and settle in then," he gathers his dropped baggage and runs upstairs. Realizing I'm through working for the day, I return to my room as well and decide to watch the ocean from the balcony. _I'm doing better._ I think to myself. _Better than yesterday. Not as good as tomorrow._ Gabe's door to his balcony is open as well but he's nowhere to be seen. I can hear him talking on the phone. Though I know eavesdropping is wrong, I also know who he's most likely talking to and can't force myself to return inside to give him his privacy. That though makes me smirk, considering Gabe doesn't value my privacy. My ears strain to pick up his side of the conversation.

"Hey bro. I'm back in town till the semester starts. I wanna see you man. I feel like we haven't gotten to really hang in forever." He pauses and I wonder what Zach's reply is. "How you doin' man? You looked like shit when I saw you at the diner, and before. Since I got back basically… Nope, nah we don't have to talk about it. It's probably better if we don't, but I want you to know, man… I'm okay with it. It's seriously fine. And I know I said it was weird because it was my br…" My mind fills out the rest of the word and I wonder why Zach cut him off. "But it's actually not dude. Like, I was thinking about it and it actually makes sense. So if that makes you happy and you decide you want to continue in that direction with him, bro, that'd be awesome… Nope, he doesn't know I'm telling you this—insists he doesn't want to affect you and me, our friendship, you know? I get it. But I just wanted you to hear from me, that if the reason you uh, ended things had to do with me, I couldn't care less who you're into, and you could do way worse than Shaun. Way worse. Like, Billy. Do you think he's hot? No… Shut the fuck up!" Gabe begins barking out a laugh. "Eww man, I mean, how does that make you feel?" He pauses for several seconds. "I uh, met a girl, er, woman… No not yet. She's different. Like, not my type at all. Crazy. A little older. Smart. She's got her shit together. Ha! No. All I care to say is that she doesn't yet see me 'in that way,' but soon I'll put the moves on her… Dude it's too embarrassing to explain, but I want you to meet her soon. Not tonight, we, uh, have plans. With my brother. Yeah she met him the same time as me. At the party you bailed on the other night. Yeah lemme know your schedule and we'll meet up… What do you mean you're working another job? The Oceanette with Jeanne? Why? So we'll have like, no time to hang? Dude! Fine, lemme know your availability and I'll see if I can pencil you in," he scoffs. I shake my head and begin to head inside when I hear my name again. "I'm gonna try to buy a car. Don't bother. Shaun already gave me the 'what-for' about my driving record. You two are so alike sometimes it's eerie. Well, it's not my fault you both are important people to me. I'm bound to bring you up to each other occasionally… It'd be more awkward if I suddenly didn't. Okay, I gotta get going. Text me your time off. Peace bro."

I feel slightly guilty as I re-enter my room and silently shut the door. But at the same time, I'm glad that he insisted to Zach he was okay with our relationship. And I'm frustrated that Zach apparently got another job. He needs schooling, not another dead-end job making just over minimum wage. I sigh and look at the time. Elisabeth should be here in half an hour, so I contemplate what to wear for my singing debut. I grab a flannel and throw it over my shirt. Deciding that this is as good as it's gonna get, wardrobe-wise, I head to my brother's room to inform him that he'll have to sing if he wants to ride with us.

I knock on the door and it pushes open the smell of cologne is very strong, and while it's not a bad smell, it's incredibly potent.

"Gabe, it smells like a mailbox-full of men's magazines in here," I say as I wave my arms back and forth. My brother is wearing tighter jeans that I've ever seen on him.

"Do you think Elisabeth likes butts on a guy?" he asks, checking himself out in the full-length mirror, and I can't take him seriously. I burst out laughing.

"I think you're a total weirdo," I reply affectionately. I open his balcony door and step outside to get away from the cologne. He joins me and I notice he doesn't smell bad or too strong.

"I uh, tried spraying a few different ones before picking the one I liked for me," he sheepishly clarifies.

"You're trying too hard," I gently reply.

"Dude, I know but I can't help it. Plus I was nervous and finished off a joint but then worried I smelled like pot and wanted to cover up that…" he trails off looking miserable.

"Well, we're gonna charm her with the Andrews brothers' vocal stylings then," I offer, patting his back.

"Oh God. I thought that was a joke 'cause you were pissed I invited myself."

"It was until she insisted we had to sing for a seat in her car," I explain.

"Well, I might as well kiss any chance with her goodbye," he laments.

"We'll be amazing," I offer, no longer scared at all about singing in public. The doorbell rings. "That must be her. Let's go!" Gabe grimaces and we leave his room to go downstairs.


	69. Chapter 69

Gabe answers the door and Elisabeth is wearing a pink t-shirt with a cartoon panda and a skirt that reminds me of a ballerina's tutu all shredded up.

"You guys ready to sing?" she asks with such enthusiasm that I can't help but smile.

"I think we're ready to go, at least," I offer. Gabe mumbles something unintelligible and I fear it will be another night of having a semi-mute brother. We walk out the door and as I turn to lock it, I quietly speak to Gabe. "Snap out of it." He nods. "I'll sit in the back," I offer, climbing into the back of her car. Gabe mouths 'Thank you,' and walks around to the passenger side.

After we're all settled in and Elisabeth pulls out of the drive, I pinch my brother's elbow and frown at him.

"So, uh, how's _Our Town _going?" he asks. "I was reading about the play and wondered how you're setting it in a tropical location considering the set is generally so sparse," he explains, and I'm impressed he actually did listen to her and researched about topics she mentioned. Elisabeth goes on about the importance of costuming and the Stage Manager breaking the fourth wall and I zone out and pay attention to Gabe. He's completely listening to her. Nodding and asking additional questions. Eventually the subject dies and I chime in.

"So then, I'm assuming the set you're helping with next week isn't for that play?"

"Nope, we're just working on generic backdrops. Building facades and the like next week," Elisabeth offers and I nod. We pull into the parking lot of the Dolphin Bar and I recognize a couple cars of friends who said they'd come. I realize that I'm actually really excited to see them. We get out of the vehicle and head inside.

Sal and Tanya are seated at the bar, deep in conversation. I walk over and greet them, getting two big hugs in return. They're both writers I've collaborated with on a few scripts. Gabe and Elisabeth wander over and I make introductions before we order drinks and find a table. Elisabeth approaches the karaoke host with a hug and turns in her first song selection. I look at the song choices and come up with nothing. I take a sip of my beer and shove the listing in my brother's direction with a diabolical grin. He pales and looks at the available songs. Tanya signs up for a few songs and Sal informs me he's just here for moral support. I chuckle. Another friend and old roommate of mine, Joey, enters and joins us. His boyfriend Stephen follows shortly after. Finally, our third roommate and my last friend to come, Clarissa, arrives.

I do another round of introductions as a waiter comes to take drink orders. I finish off my beer and look to Gabe. He's quiet but doesn't seem uncomfortable. I motion to my empty bottle, silently asking if he needs a new drink. He shakes his head and points to he barely-touched Scotch. I nod and Elisabeth's name is called to sing. She rocks out to "Girls Just Want To Have Fun," bopping around the stage as she belts out the lyrics. When she finishes, she bows to the crowd and returns to the table.

"It's '80s rocker chicks for me tonight," she exclaims, doing a twirl in the skirt which now makes sense before taking a sip of her Shirley Temple. "What about you?" she asks. I feel a flush across my cheeks as I admit I haven't yet signed up for any song. Elisabeth nods. "Well, when in doubt, 'I Will Survive,' is the go-to heartbreak song." I consider it and nod, thinking it can't be that hard. She takes off to get me on the roster as I hastily gulp to finish my second beer.

I realize I'm having a good time among these friends who know me and have known me for a long time. I fill them in on what I've been doing since leaving LA, and briefly mention I'd been seeing someone but it ended. Joey and Stephen cover "I Got You Babe," and I feel a lump in my throat at the sweet song and my nickname for Zach. Willing myself not to make a scene, I take a big sip of my beer to dislodge the tight feeling. The song ends and I watch Gabe chatting with Elisabeth. She's got his full attention and I'm happy to see him so enamored with such a nice person. She's pointing to something on the song list and nodding while he looks skeptical.

Joey and Clarissa, who know Gabe from when he'd come visit, notice my brother's unusually-respectable behavior. "What's with the Gabe-meister?" Joey asks, nodding his head in his direction. "He finally grow up? I'm surprised he agreed to come here and isn't posturing and acting all macho-man." I laugh and explain how the woman he's speaking to and very interested in mistook his cheesy pick-up line and now he's trying to win her over before coming clean. They both snicker at the situation. Joey directs his attention across the table. "So, Gabe, you seeing anyone?" he asks almost innocently.

"Um, no. Not really," he mutters, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Oh. Playing the field then?" Gabe shrugs half-heartedly and while it's amusing to see him out of his element, I can tell he's at a loss on how to react. I interject.

"So, G. Pick a song for our duet?" I ask and he shoots me a grateful look.

"Nope. This one…" he points a thumb at Elisabeth. "…thinks 'Without You' would be epic." He shakes his head.

"The Mariah version?" I ask. Elisabeth nods with a smile that looks a _little bit_ devious. "Then let's do it," I respond. "It's their eardrums."

"Dunno the words, bro."

Clarissa chimes in. "Oh Gabe, how can _you_ _not know_ _that song? _Besides, the words are on the screen, _sweetie!_" She pinches his cheek and smiles knowing he can do and say very little if he wants to maintain the ruse. The big brother part of me wants to protect him from their gentle teasing, but the rest of me finds it hilarious.

"Fine," he spits out. "Sign us up." He takes a big sip of his drink. The host calls out my name for my debut singing performance. I finish my beer and approach the microphone. My palms are sweaty so I wipe them across my jeans before grabbing it. The words flash across the screen and I go for it, attempting to match the tune and admittedly failing miserably.

"At first I was afraid, I was petrified…" I begin. My voice cracks and my friends are giggling. "…Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side…" Sal is hunched over heaving from laughing so hard and Tanya's patting his back. The rest of the patrons are politely trying to ignore my singing and go about their business as if there's not the sound of a squawking bird vocally annihilating a song they know and love. "But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong that I grew strong…" I squeak out as I mime making a muscle. "And I learned how to get along…" This is going horribly. I look at my brother who is desperately trying to maintain his composure. I suddenly remember the Cake version of the song and consider whether sing-saying the words would work better as I complete the next lyric. "And so you're back, from outer space…" Yeah. Perfect strangers are cringing. I change the way I sing so I'm basically saying the words and it sounds slightly better, or at least bearable.

I finish the song that way and by the end the crowd is back to ignoring me as little more than background noise. The host encourages clapping after I hand the mic back, letting people know that it was my first time. A few people half-heartedly clap as my friends cheer. I return to the table and am given pats on the back. Gabe just shakes his head. I return to conversing with my friends as other singers go up to perform. Some are good, others suck, most are so-so. Elisabeth goes back to the stage to sing "Lucky Star," and Gabe is the loudest to cheer among most of patrons who don't have to be forcibly encouraged to clap for her.

While talking to Tanya, I make plans to meet her in the city for lunch in a couple days. It feels right to be slowly easing back into real life, and I'm glad I decided to wait a while to officially move back to LA. If I had packed up and rushed back I don't think my headspace would be as calm as it is considering the circumstances. The peace of being on the ocean and having lots of time to heal and reflect has made the difference and I'm definitely the better for it. I smile. Regardless of what happens in the next couple of weeks, I'll be in a better place mentally if I treat myself kindly and take it slow.

Since I'll be in LA, I make a note to stop by my agent's office to sign paperwork and then Joey mentions that he's anxious for me to see his new place with Stephen, so I schedule a time to swing by that same day, grateful for my friends and my place in their lives, even though I've been noticeably absent lately.

As it gets later, the bar gets busier. Various members of our group break off to interact with other people at the bar. Eventually a good-looking guy with big muscles and a crew-cut approaches the table. He starts out by introducing himself as Jerry and complimenting Elisabeth but quickly focuses in on Gabe. I grin as Gabe tactfully tries to talk to him while also avoiding the fact that he's obviously being hit on. Jerry's pick-up lines are cheesy and old. He mentions he's a sailor in the Navy on leave and looking for a good time. Gabe volleys back by asking what kind of boat he's on leave from. Then he brings up every good American's "patriotic duty" to the military and my brother mentions donating to the USO. Finally, Jerry offers to buy us at the table (me, Elisabeth, Gabe, and Jerry at this point) a round. Elisabeth accepts and we all give him our orders and good ol' Jerry pats Gabe on the back and mentions needing assistance with four drinks. Elisabeth nods and Gabe swallows as he accompanies the seaman to the bar, attempting to maintain the semblance of a smile on his face and trying not to look miserable.

Part of me feels this is just desserts for the way my Lothario of a brother has treated women in the past. The other part realizes he's still young and has been trying so hard to impress the girl across from me. That side wins out over the side that wants to continue watching Gabe squirm.

"He's straight, you know?" I begin. Elisabeth smiles.

"Yeah. I know." She pauses for a second and sizes me up before continuing. "I uh, heard him say 'Hey babe, I'm Gabe," that first night, and it was such a lame line but he's good looking so I was sure the mere fact it rhymed has worked very well for him in the past. I found it unimpressive so the first thing that popped into my head to shoo him away was to imply he was gay and I assumed he'd get offended and leave. It's um, a good tactic for getting rid of boorish assholes quickly," she explains with a slight blush. "But, uh, he didn't. Leave, that is. Then I decided to narc you out for stealing booze and he went away and I thought that was that." She shrugs her shoulders. "And then my sister took off and I was stranded there and you guys showed up and offered me your car and were so nice that I figured I'd misjudged him. Your brother's a good guy. I keep waiting for him to tell me he's straight but…" She splays her hands out as she shrugs this time. "…He hasn't and it's been fun talking and getting to know him without dealing with all the crappy lines I've heard before."

I nod. Then decide to be as honest as she's been. "Well he likes you. I think he really likes you. Otherwise he wouldn't be here," I gesture to our surroundings, "and _willing_ to sing Mariah Carey because you asked him to."

She sighs and thinks for a few seconds before responding. "I mean, he's young," she begins, skeptically. "Obviously. And that's not to say that I'm adverse to younger guys, but like I said, the past few days have been nice and pressure-free. Oh, and just kind of really fun to watch him mentally figure out how to respond in situations knowing he's trying to keep up this charade," she admits with a small sheepish grin. I can't help but laugh.

"I've been feeling the same way," I admit confidentially. "But it's gotta end. Sometime soon."

"Deal," Elisabeth agrees with a nod and a wink. "So let's enjoy it while we can!" _Gabe my brother, you've definitely met your match._

Jerry returns with Gabe in tow and he distributes the drinks. Just as he's about to very obviously make a move on my long-suffering brother, the karaoke host calls our names. Gabe downs his Scotch in three gulps and actually looks relieved to take the stage. I more reluctantly join him. Before the words appear on the screen, I have something to say.

"Elisabeth, we'd like to dedicate this to you." I see the girl in question hop up and down and clap. Gabe rolls his eyes at me but I just smirk right back. Deciding to continue with my speak-sing way of getting through lyrics, I begin. "No I can't forget this evening or your face as you were leaving, but I guess that's just the way the story goes…" I don't sound awful because this is such a low and gravely opening, but Gabe's belting it out and sounds as horrible as I did during my solo debut. He looks at me and I try to non-verbally tell him to go along with how I'm singing but he doesn't pick up what I'm trying to telepathically relate.

We continue and, if anything, my brother gets more enthusiastic and into singing. _Can he _hear_ himself?_ People aren't even trying to talk over the sound because he's just that loud. I look around during the chorus because I don't need help with those words, and I doubt anyone could hear if I messed up because Gabe is so brash-sounding and off-key. "I can't l-i-i-i-i-i-ive, if living is without you…" he basically screams into the mic, reminding me of the sound a cat in heat makes, but amplified. I throw my hands up in apology to the crowd. Jerry looks positively ill listening and gestures to his watch at Elisabeth; apparently he's got to get going. Elisabeth nods but doesn't take her eyes off the _camera she's recording our performance with_. I want to both die from humiliation at the fact that this will be something humanity will have to deal with as more than a one-time thing, and pat my clever brother on the back for getting rid of his rapidly-retreating unwanted admirer in a rather unique way.

The song mercifully ends and I shove the microphone in the host's hand and jump off the stage before he can encourage anyone to either clap or throw tomatoes. Gabe returns to the table with a self-satisfied grin. "Got rid of Mr. Patriotic Duty, eh?" he asks innocently.

"Yup. He didn't even leave his number for you, Gabriel," Elisabeth replies with sugary-sweet sincerity.

"Good. He uh, wasn't my type anyway. So I figured if I could be completely off-putting, maybe he'd get the hint," he admits conspiratorially. _Good grief—they deserve each other!_ I think, looking between him and Elisabeth who's giggling. I decide to chat with Sal about a script he's working on and make my way over to him. I find him and we chat for a while. Tanya joins in, and then Clarissa comes over. Joey and Stephen say their goodbyes and I look around to see a good portion of the bar has emptied out. My other friends agree that they're getting ready to go as well, so I look at the time and see it's just after one. I haven't thought about Zach in a few hours. Quite proud of myself and determined that socializing and reconnecting with friends is the right track, I look around for my ride.

I don't see either Gabe or Elisabeth anywhere in the clearing-out bar. I check the men's room and G's not there either. I ask for my tab and pay it, then decide to check if they're already outside and waiting for me. I round the corner of the building to where Elisabeth parked. She's leaning back against the car in an intense-looking lip-lock with Gabe, his arms wrapped around her. _Well done, baby brother!_


	70. Chapter 70

I can't decide whether to interrupt them, as the bar will be closing soon, or to just go inside and either wait for them to come get me or ask for a cab. After a few seconds I head back inside, wanting to give G his privacy. I plop down in a seat at the bar and ask for a glass of water, determining that I'll wait until they close to request a cab. Just as I'm about to ask the bartender to call a ride for me, Elisabeth returns inside, looking flushed.

"Ready to go?" she asks innocently. _Yup, she's definitely an actress_, I think with a smile and a nod. I stand up and leave a tip for the water before joining her. We head outside and I see Gabe sitting in the front seat, zoning out. I crawl in the back and Elisabeth starts the car. Where the ride to Dolphin Bar was full of chatter, the drive home is relatively silent. It doesn't seem awkward, more contemplative. Eventually I decide to break the quiet.

"So, bro, didja have fun?"

"Yeah I did," he quietly murmurs without turning around to look at me.

"And you, Elisabeth? Did you enjoy yourself?" She looks at me in the review mirror and nods.

"You betcha!"

"So, what are you planning to do with the uh, video you captured of our performance?" I ask, rather curious.

"Oh, that was gonna be insurance that you'll help out next week—don't say you had no warning!" she jokes with a grin. "Or I might upload it to the internet to share your gift with the world." I roll my eyes and I can see my brother swallow at the thought.

"Gabe mentioned sending it to our parents earlier," I drolly comment. "That might be an idea."

"Sure thing," she agrees with a smile. I see Gabe look out his window, slowly shaking his head, but he doesn't interject with his opinion. I wonder if he's still afraid to anger her or just doesn't care that the world could potentially see his vocal skills in action. I chuckle. "And how about _you_, Shaun? Did you have a good time?" Elisabeth asks.

"You know, I did. There may be something to your karaoke-being-good-therapy theory. Or it might have been getting out and doing something among friends," I finish. She nods enthusiastically.

"I told you!"

"Well, thanks for inviting me, and the moral support," I reply, genuinely touched at this new friend's kindness. The slice of her face I can see in the mirror beams at the compliment.

"Any time!" she confirms as we pull into our neighborhood. Gabe continues gazing out the window, contributing very little. I don't feel any tension between the two people in the front seat so I'm doubtful it ended poorly, but it's difficult to get a read on my normally happy-go-lucky brother. She pulls into the driveway and I grab my keys. Looking between them, I see that Gabe's not gearing up to leave the car anytime soon, so I bid them a good night and crawl out. As I close the door, Elisabeth grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. "G'night Shaun! I'll call you about the workshop, if you're still willing," he says with a smile. I nod and head inside.

I take myself upstairs and undress. I sit on the bed before crawling under the comforter and marvel at how little I thought about Zach tonight. Satisfied, I crawl into bed and make quick work of falling asleep. The last thing I hear before drifting off is the front door closing.

I wake the next morning in a sweat, fists balled, shaking. My dreams, which I rarely remember upon waking, failed to shield themselves from Alert and Awake Shaun this morning and I vividly remember a scene where I was surfing with Zach, but we were on Cody's small board together. A big wave hit and Zach got knocked off. He was under the water and not bobbing up so I jumped in to retrieve him. I couldn't find him for what seemed like forever but by the time I finally did, I had to go up for air. I dove back down and spied my love sinking further below the board so I swam deep and fast to grab his arm. When I finally grasped it and attempted to bring him to the surface, something stronger than myself was pulling him deeper into the dark abyss. I looked to see what had a hold on him that was pulling below, and saw several glowing red strings attached to his other hand, leading to what I assumed were those he loves hiding in the inky darkness further down. I needed to take another breath, was choking under the water when I realized I had a huge wad of gum in my mouth. I began blowing a bubble, and while it didn't help with the searing pain of not being able to breathe, it did pull us closer to the water's surface. Sacrificing my desperate need to breath in order to fill the bubble, I pushed out all of the available air in my lungs. Slowly we returned to the small surfboard and I nearly swallowed a bunch of ocean water in an attempt to gulp as much oxygen into my body as possible. The gum bubble, which looked suspiciously like a misshapen heart, floated away as I attempted to throw Zach's arm over the board and get us both to safety. He kept slipping and I was fighting to keep his head above water when I awoke.

I don't need a psychologist to tell me the meaning of that dream. But it was just so realistic and scary that even sitting up in bed, I'm attempting to get air back into my lungs. I wonder at why I remember it at all, then question why my subconscious forgot that Zach had an additional red thread attached to me that could have helped me pull him up. Shaking my head at why I'm bothering to marvel at what Dream Shaun's circumstances were, I look down at my faint red Z. It's gone. Totally gone. I lament at the thought that maybe my dream was telling me that I wasn't ever even really attached to Zach via magical red string, and that any physical "proof" of it has disappeared as well.

I feel physically sick to my stomach, disappointed that the progress I thought I'd made by not thinking about him last night somehow manifested itself so that his presence invaded my subconscious. Though I'm beat still, I'm afraid to try to go back to sleep, not willing to take on the potential of Drowning Zach again. I force myself out of bed and head downstairs.

Instead of continuing to think of the nightmare, after I turn the coffee pot on, I focus on final edits for my script before sending it to my agent along with a request to meet tomorrow afternoon. I look at the time and see a couple hours have passed since waking up. Gabe stumbles downstairs and heads immediately to the half-empty pot. He pours a mug for himself and stirs in two heaping spoonsful of sugar before taking a sip.

"Mornin' bro," he mutters. I decide to focus on him rather than my dream, which keeps replaying in my head.

"Good night last night, eh?" I ask, wiggling my eyebrows.

"It was okay," he admits, but his ears are slightly pink, so I know there's more to the story than just 'okay.'

"Elisabeth knows about you? That you're not the fabulous gay man she thought you were?" I enquire with a smirk.

"Yup. I finally 'came out' to her," he explains, using air quotes. "It was, uh, tough, actually. I mean, clearly she's got lots of gay friends, so I was afraid to disappoint her or have her tell me I'm 'not the person she thought I was,' or you know, whatever else lame people do when someone they know comes out. No wonder Zach wanted me to keep quiet. I can't imagine him telling his old man or Jeanne for that matter-yikes," he elaborates, shaking his head. I want to hug my brother for his revelation about how difficult it can be, but instead I just nod. He looks at me.

"You look like shit, by the way. Rough night?"

"Yeah, I didn't sleep well," I explain with no continued elaboration. I swallow at my word choice. _Sleep well._ I sigh and return to my computer as Gabe ambles out to the yard. The rest of my day consists of working on my book. Near the end of the afternoon, I go back to editing and force myself to finish two more chapters at the beginning. It's tough but not as bad as yesterday. I tell myself it will be better tomorrow before heading upstairs to make an early night of it.


	71. Chapter 71

I head into the bathroom to get ready for bed. Seeing Zach's red toothbrush, I'm tempted to use it again, but decide against it and grab my own. While brushing, I debate tossing his into the trash but can't seem to make myself perform the actions necessary to lose another small piece of him like I lost my pinkie 'Z.' I spit out the minty foam and set my toothbrush back in its place, next to his. Sighing, I look at myself in the mirror—really look beyond the cursory glances I normally take.

Gabe was right—I look like crap. I have dark circles under my eyes and the downward direction of the corners of my mouth looked etched in. Wondering if I've consistently looked this way the past few days or if my current visage is a result of a crummy night's sleep and horrible nightmare, I attempt a smile and it looks disingenuous and like my face would _rather_ droop than attempt to shine. I debate weather shaving this morning was a good idea or if it would have better hidden the sadness. I shake my head and turn toward the door. Maybe a good night's sleep will improve my outward appearance.

As I crawl into bed, I'm determined not to repeat last night's awful dream, but instantly I'm assaulted by memories of trying to save Zach from being pulled under the ocean. My survival instincts take over and my breathing gets choppy as I again attempt to inhale as much readily-available air as possible. My body's instant reaction to remembering the dream won't make for peaceful night of sleep at all, so I try to redirect my thoughts elsewhere. My brain wanders for a bit, thinking about going to LA tomorrow, seeing my friends, remembering last night's fun, then landing on Gabe. Why has he been so quiet and contemplative when normally it would take a muzzle to shut him up?

Usually he's suave and confident around women, but it's clear his interactions with Elisabeth have thrown him off his game. I smile at that thought, determining that a little humility will be good for him, and I hope that's all it is. I know he's stressed about The Zach Thing (my mind carefully avoids delving into the issue, but merely focuses in on the friction surrounding my brother's relationship with his best friend), and I desperately hope he can move forward with Zach and that's not the reason for his un-Gabe-like quietness. I eventually drift off after deciding to have a chat with him in the morning.

I wake several hours later grateful for no recollections of my subconscious' overnight musings. I look at the clock and see it's a bit early, but not so early that I should turn over and go back to sleep. I sit up and stretch, deciding to get up and start the day. "Coffee," I grumble to myself as I pad out my room and head downstairs, only to find the pot already brewing. I look around and see Gabe staring out the French doors in the living room. "Yo bro, whadaya know?" I ask, using one of his own catchphrases. He turns around.

"Not much dude," he replies, still looking dazed.

"You're up early," I state, wondering if perhaps he's stoned. He doesn't have the glazed over eyes but he's definitely acting mellow enough to be.

"Couldn't sleep," he explains, then notices the coffee's done and shuffles to the kitchen to grab a mug.

"Are you okay? You seem a bit…" I begin, searching for the correct word. "…out of it lately."

Gabe pauses before he pours a cup and thinks for a second before replying. "Yeah I'm fine. Just uh, thinking, you know?" He stirs in an ungodly amount of sugar and takes a sip as I fill my own mug. I debate asking more questions, but he looks like he's still got something to say, so I decide to wait it out and just nod as I take a sip of coffee. "I uh, think I might be sick, man," he confesses. His words surprise me and he looks physically fine to me and I haven't noticed any ill behavior beyond the morning I found him hugging the toilet.

"Do you want to uh, go to the doctor?" I offer with a shrug. "What are your symptoms?"

"Uh, my stomach feels like it wants to throw up all the time. I can barely eat 'cause I'm just not hungry. I haven't been sleeping all that well, but I feel jittery and energetic. It's weird…" he trails off as he takes another sip. I consider the 'symptoms' and want to grin, but in an attempt to look like I'm taking him seriously I cover my face with the mug as I gulp down some more coffee. "Dude, I think I might have mono." I painfully swallow the liquid rather than spitting it out all over before laughing at this.

"I uh, find that very doubtful, G," I reply, setting my drink down. "Have you been feverish? Achy?" He shakes his head. "Notice any weird issues like your heart racing occasionally?" He nods this time. "Sounds to me like you got bit by the uh, love bug, bro." He thinks on this, frowning and shaking his head. "When did you start feeling sick?" I ask. "Was it, say, over the last few days?" Gabe nods. "Well, I'm no doctor, but it sounds to me like butterflies in your stomach and general lovesickness."

"Dude, I can't be in love—I haven't even scored with her yet." _I'm glad being in love hasn't changed Gabe's priorities too much_, I think as I roll my eyes.

"Well, like I said—not a doctor," I reiterate, pointing at my chest with my thumb. "But I know the symptoms. Feel free to get a second opinion, and I'll take you to the clinic if you want…" I magnanimously offer.

"Nah, lemme think about this man. Love? This is what it feels like?" I nod. "This is awful! Who'd choose to feel like crap like this?!" he asks, outraged.

"Well that's the point Gabester, you don't usually _choose_ to fall in love—it just happens. But chin up! What you're experiencing is, uh, just the first stages. Your appetite will return. The butterflies will go away and the nervous energy will dissipate. You'll be fine." I gently punch his shoulder.

"I thought I was dying and it turns out I'm in love?" He shakes his head, then looks at me. "You uh, felt like this? With Zach?" I swallow and nod. "And he felt the same way?"

"I thought so," I quietly reply, lifting my shoulders in a noncommittal shrug.

"He felt the same way and he left you?" I purse my lips together and bite down, nodding again. "He's an idiot, bro," Gabe sums up. "A fuckin' idiot."

"Thanks G. That uh, means a lot." I smile at my dopey brother. "Hey I'm heading to LA in a bit." He nods, paying more attention to his coffee cup than what I'm saying. "So, I'm gonna go get ready and head out soon." I rinse out my empty mug and leave it in the sink.

"Hey Shaun, you're good with words," he starts as I'm about to leave the kitchen. I turn around.

"I like to think so," I reply, wondering where this is going.

"Well, Elisabeth called me 'Spicoli' a few times. I thought it was like, a cutesy nickname or something. Any idea what she meant?" I chuckle at my much younger brother being in love with someone a few years older than him.

"Yeah. Go get a copy of the movie _Fast Times at Ridgemont High_. Watch it. You'll figure it out." I smile. "You totally are one, by the way. A Spicoli that is. But the nicest Spicoli anyone could ever meet, so I imagine it _was_ used as a cutesy nickname," I assure my confused-looking brother. "Okay, I'm gonna get going now, unless you need more '80s pop culture references explained?" Gabe rolls his eyes as he shakes his head. I head upstairs laughing, grateful that my brother's odd behavior lately was just his way of coming to terms with his feelings for Elisabeth and not because I irrevocably damaged his friendship with Zach.

I run upstairs and change out of my PJs into jeans and a flannel shirt. I gather my laptop and a few other things before hitting the road, LA bound.


	72. Chapter 72

While on the road, I call Tanya to confirm our lunch date and find out where I am meeting her. She suggests her home, as that's where she works from and will have her young son, Drew down for a nap around when I arrive it town. I agree and hang up, satisfied I'll have plenty of time to visit with my friend before the meeting I set with my agent in the afternoon.

I pull into my friend's drive half an hour later and am greeted with a big hug at the door. We quietly fill each other in on our lives over pasta salad and a couple glasses of red wine. She tells me about a few scripts she's working on and we work through a couple issues she has with the dialog on one of her screenplays. Talking about writing feels productive and normal after being away for this extended period of time. Just bouncing concepts around with Tanya has given me inspiration and ideas for the workshop I'd promised to help with.

After eating we settle on the couch and continue chatting. Tanya's son emerges from his room with sleepy eyes and a smile. He crawls into his mother's lap and gives me a bashful greeting. I've met him before but this time seeing him brings memories of Cody. I wonder how Zach's nephew is doing, and lament that he isn't taking the boy on any more surf lessons because all the equipment's at the mansion. I bite the inside of my bottom lip as I debate using Gabe as a go-between to deliver the mini board and wetsuit back to their young owner. Tanya sees my focus changing direction and sends Drew to go play with some toys.

"You okay? You look a little, distracted," my friend opens with a kind smile.

"Yeah. Just thinking about, you know, kids."

"Having some of your own?"

"Maybe someday. Or adopting. They're pretty great," I offer.

"I think so. You've never brought up kids before though, Shaun. Is there a reason you are now?" Tanya cleverly deduces.

"I met a guy. He's uh, helping to raise his nephew. Cutest kid ever. It opened my eyes to the idea as a concrete possibility," I explain. "It didn't work out. With the uncle," I quickly add before she can start asking questions or ask to meet someone who's currently avoiding my phone calls. I sigh.

"Well I think you'll make a great dad someday. Maybe not to that boy, but possibly other kids." I think about what she says. I feel I would make a good father-figure, but now when I imagine future-children, where once I saw blurry, non-descript kids, Cody's face shines brightly. I want Codes specifically as a child in my life. I nod at what Tanya's telling me, as I yearn to hear a specific child's laughter. I want to build sand castles with Cody and Zach. And potentially other kids in the future, but they're still a generic-looking possibility next to the crystal-clear boy I want to watch grow up.

"Thanks Tanya," I smile and squeeze her hand. "I'll be back in town soon for good. Let's get together again then," I propose. She nods and I get up to leave. She gives me a final hug goodbye as I leave to get into my car. I call Joey and tell him when I'll be available as I head to my agent's. He promises to text me his address and directions before we hang up.

I arrive at my agent's office and am escorted in to see him by his secretary. We discuss my new place that his wife was instrumental in helping me find, and I inform him I'll be moving in soon. We go over updates on the mercenary script I turned in shortly after arriving in Long Beach and I submit the first final draft of the ghost script. He asks about my novel and I explain I've come very far along and hope to finish it within the next few months. It's a quick meeting and I fill out some forms and am on my way to Joey and Stephen's new love-nest within an hour.

I drive to their place and it's great to see my friend doing so well. When we lived together, Joey had his share of heartache so I'm ridiculously pleased to see him so blissful and domesticated with Stephen. Their home is an adorable mix of modern with touches of retro '60s space-age here and there. My ex-roommate seems to have found happiness and though it's hard to watch their affectionate behavior with each other and not think of Zach, my rational side rejoices at Joey's good fortune. We sit and catch up, and they explain how they met and got together—a story I hadn't heard until now. Joey's an insurance agent and met Stephen who was making a claim against one of Joey's clients. Apparently it was love at first sight but neither of them trusted the other while the claim was being investigated. They regale me with stories about how hot they were for each other while trying to not be obvious about how much they wanted to do more than argue over vehicle damage and the values of various items. Only after the claim had been settled did Stephen stop by Joey's office and ask him out.

Joey explains that as soon as they kissed he knew it would be his last first kiss and though friends and family tried discouraging them from shacking up so quickly (mere months after their first date), they both knew it was the right thing to do and they haven't regretted it yet. The whirl-wind romance of their story reminds me of how soon I knew I loved Zach. Seeing them happy and together makes me realize that wouldn't have been so unheard of to ask Zach to move to LA with me so quickly had I had the chance.

We move on to other topics: news about mutual friends, salacious gossip from Stephen's job as a makeup artist on the set of a popular TV show, scripts I've been working on, and more. They inform me that they've instituted a game night among friends the last Friday of every month and insist when I'm back that I'll have to start coming. I agree with an easy smile. We're having such a great conversation that we don't even realize several hours have passed. Stephen looks at the clock and mentions dinner.

"Shaun, we're supposed to be meeting some of my co-workers and friends at a hip new restaurant serving the best tapas in a bit; would you care to join?" he invites me. I immediately begin to decline but realize I have nothing pressing to return home to and I'm actually having fun. I agree, as long as I won't be an awkward extra add-on and can go in jeans and a flannel. They assure me it's a pretty casual place and there will be over 20 other friends and acquaintances going, so half an hour later we're on our way.

We arrive and are escorted to the back room where the group has assembled. There's a long table and some people are sitting while others mill about among groups scattered around the room. My friends introduce me to the people they came to see and I chat with several people, including some industry acquaintances I've met over the past several years. Eventually everyone is seated and I introduce myself to the person to my left, a good-looking guy who does hair on the show in the lot adjoining Stephen's show. His name is Brian and he has a firm handshake and an inviting smile. Stephen greets Brian with a smile and a nod, then returns to his conversation with Joey and the person to their right.

Brian is an easy conversationalist and we chat about a few broad topics as the table orders. When the waiter gets to me, I order a few different appetizers and a glass of red. Brian duplicates my order with a wink and a grin and informs me I have excellent taste in wine. _Is he hitting on me?_ I wonder. Deciding to not worry about it, I continue chatting with him and we clink glasses when the drinks arrive. The food comes and we order another round of drinks. I'm enjoying the conversation. Analytical Shaun takes a step back and looks at the situation. Brian's an attractive guy, we've got a lot in common, he's definitely flirting, is close in age to me and we're at similar places in our careers. He doesn't have any noticeable baggage and is sporting good table manners.

I could easily return the flirting and see if this could potentially lead somewhere. My friends wouldn't be disappointed if I left with Brian at the end of the meal and got my car from their place later. I consider doing exactly this as I dig into my food. Maybe I can't seem to shake the numbing sadness of missing Zach because I haven't tried. This guy next to me is giving me all the signals telling me I could go home with him tonight. And what if he's it—my one and only, the penguin I've been waiting for, to use Zach's analogy? The man sitting next to me is much more appropriate for me and my life than the man on my mind, but the man on my mind also has residency in my heart. I sigh.

That's the problem. When I heard about Joey's "last first kiss," I didn't wonder when that would happen for me. I vividly remembered that night on the double chaise with my Zach and his scared, rapidly beating heart, his nervous swigs of beer and his sketchbook with his soul poured out on the pages. I could go with Brian and have another one-night stand, easily. And possibly in the future, if Zach and I work things out, he'd still be the man in my heart, but that night on the terrace would no longer be my last first kiss. Other ones (with Brian, potential other hook-ups, etc.) would have negated the significance of that night. Am I ready for that to happen? _I don't know._

I order another glass of red as I grapple with my confusion. Brian is making suggestive comments and I give him noncommittal responses as I try to determine what I want to do. With the meal coming to a close, I need to make a decision soon. I look over at my friends who are engrossed in the conversation they're having with each other. Stephen leans into Joey's hand which strokes his cheek. The energy around them seems to glow and I'm reminded of the not-quite-sparks electrical current I felt when Zach's hand first brushed over me. I've never felt anything like that with any man I've ever been with before—not from long term relationships nor random hook-ups.

Regardless of what happens in the future, if I have any sort of future with Zach, I'm not ready _right now_ to let go of the intense physical and emotional bond I have with and to him. Realizing nothing will be happening with Brian is a strange sort of relief, until the waiter arrives with a fourth glass of wine he'd had apparently gestured for when I wasn't paying attention. I'm already starting to feel a slight buzz and don't think another glass will allow me to go home tonight. Joey sees my dilemma and mouths "You can crash in our guest room," to me. I smile and nod in appreciation. I turn back to Brian, who will someday make some man very happy I'm sure—he just isn't the source of my happiness, and I cheers with him again.

"To, _new friends_," I offer with a smile. He looks disappointed for a second, then brushes it aside.

"To new friends." We sip the wine and chat about the food as people start to trickle out. As I get ready to join my friends, Brian places his hand on my forearm. _Yup, no fuzzy electrical current._ "If at some point whatever—uh, whomever—it is that's holding you back suddenly isn't there anymore, here's my number," he offers with a grin. "Tonight was fun Shaun," he finishes with a wink. I nod and take hold of the paper he hands me, shoving it in my pocket.

"Yeah, thanks. I had fun too." I reply. It's nice to know I have options. I know I can't wait around for Zach forever, and realize that my desire to hold fast to what we had and not pursue anything with anyone else may change in the future if we aren't reunited.

We say goodbye and I head out with Joey and Stephen. I'm not sure if it was the copious amount of wine or scoring someone's number even after indicating I wasn't looking for anything, but I had fun tonight. We get back to Joey and Stephen's and enjoy a bit more to drink before everyone's yawning. Joey shows me to the guest room and I undress and crawl into bed. "Sleep well, Zach and Cody," I whisper to the Universe before falling asleep.


	73. Chapter 73

I wake up the next morning and it takes me a few seconds to remember I'm still in LA. My phone is dead, and I realize I didn't let Gabe know I wouldn't be returning to the beach house last night. I grab my jeans and slip back into them then throw my shirt on. As I leave the bedroom, I can hear my friends in the kitchen so I head in that direction. Stephen's wielding a spatula at the stove with his back to me while Joey's sitting at the table with a glass of orange juice and newspaper.

"I'm making omelets," Stephen mentions as he gestures to various ingredients after he notices me shuffling in. "You want everything in yours?" he asks. I nod, then sit next to my friend who's finishing the crossword puzzle. I ask Joey if I can borrow his phone and he slides it over to me. I quickly text my brother to tell him I'm safe and will be coming back to Long Beach sometime today. Then I call my own number and check my voicemail. I have two messages. One is a hang-up and the other is a message from my new landlord Susan mentioning some repair work she's planning to have done on the property next month. I call her back and tell her I got her message, and it reminds me that I'm since I'm in the area, I can unload all my stuff that had been sitting in the back of my car. A few minutes later Stephen presents us with fluffy omelets. I thank him and then dig in. Breakfast is a fun affair as Joey and I explain how we survived living with each other when our collective knowledge about cooking involved little more than microwaving frozen meals before Clarissa joined us and took over most of the food preparation.

After breakfast, they boys begin to get ready for the day, and I say my goodbyes. We hug and I thank them for the fun time and compliment their beautiful home. I promise to join in on game nights as soon as I'm settled in at the duplex. I drive to North Hollywood and have to deal with crappy morning-commute traffic. Grateful I normally work from home and miss out on rush-hour, I eventually arrive to my new address and back my vehicle up into the drive. Unloading takes about half an hour, and then I go through and organize my stuff, throwing toiletries in the bathroom and clothes in the master bedroom's closet. I start a list of things I'll need to purchase, thinking if I begin getting stuff now, it shouldn't be as overwhelming when I move in officially.

Upon finishing my list, I lock up and head out, eager to leave quickly in order to miss the afternoon traffic. An hour later I am back in Long Beach. I decide to swing by a few stores and grab some stuff on my list. I drive in the direction of the nearest housewares shop and as I pull into the parking lot I notice some very familiar looking images tagged on the dumpsters nearby. _Zach's cranes_. I inhale and hold my breath. I hadn't thought too much about him today until now. As I pull into a parking spot and get out of my car, I remember getting caught checking out his ass at the hardware store and going with him tagging and chatting at The Shack about him being "in limbo" with Tori. I can officially say limbo sucks, and I still don't do it well. I determinedly push thoughts of him out of my head and try to concentrate on my shopping. In the store, I load up a cartful of home goods, checking things like trash cans, hangers, and cleaning supplies off my list.

I pay the bill at the checkout and maneuver the cart to load my purchases into my car. When I return the shopping cart, I go the long way and purposefully take myself past the trash receptacles featuring Zach's art. Seeing them makes me wonder about the fate of his CalArts application. I'm tempted to ask Gabe if he's heard anything but I know I won't. An older gentleman parked nearby clears his throat and it pulls me out of my musings. The man is giving me a weird look and I realize I must look pretty strange mooning over some spray paint on a dirty old dumpster. I give him an embarrassed nod and move along before he decides to involve security or something.

I trek back to the car and get in, deciding I'm done shopping for the day. I begin the drive home and see two more city-scene images of Zach's. It's like he's marked so much the city the same way I feel I was branded by him. I think of the Z that eventually washed away and the idea that these pieces of him left all around town will someday fade away or get painted over leaves me feeling very melancholy. His talent deserves a permanence that tagging doesn't usually afford an artist.

I get home and at this point it's the late afternoon. I leave the purchases in the back and grab my laptop and phone to take inside. I plug my phone in to charge it and wander to Gabe's room. I knock on the door to check in with him.

"Enter," he shouts from the other side. I let myself in and see him lying on his bed with his head hanging over the side. "Glad you're alive. Thanks for the head's up this morning bro," he sighs. "I'd ask if you were getting busy but I find it doubtful," he leers with a suggestive upside-down nod.

"Er, I did score someone's number," I offer, pulling Brian's paper from my pocket to show him.

"Nice job, PBB! You gonna call him?" he asks, flipping over onto his stomach.

"Um, not so much right now. But maybe in, you know, the future," I lamely reply.

"Right. The Love Thing, huh? Not quite ready to move on just yet, eh?" I nod. "That's cool bro. Hey, Elisabeth's swinging by to pick me up in a bit. We're uh, gonna see Zach. It'll be the first time they meet. Do you want me to, mmm, _relay_ any messages to my idiotic best friend?" _Tell him I love him and miss him and need him!_ my inner drama queen tearfully screams inside my head as I shake it.

"I told you I wouldn't involve you in my personal stuff with him, G, and I won't." I remember my thoughts after seeing little Drew yesterday. "Just, maybe let him know that Cody's surf gear is available for him whenever he wants it. If that means keeping it stashed here at the house or taking it home. It's not getting any use just sitting here."

"Got it dude."

"Cool. I'm uh, gonna go clean up and bang out some work I guess," I inform him. He nods and I direct myself to my room and take a quick shower then change into clean clothes, grabbing jeans and a gray t-shirt to wear for the rest of the day. I jog back downstairs where I'd left my computer on the kitchen table. I open it with the intention of working but my muse seems to have taken the day off. After a bit of gazing into the screen and coming up with nothing, there's a knock at the door. I stand up to go answer it, glad to have an excuse to walk away from the blank screen.

Elisabeth smiles as I open the door. Today she's wearing paint-spattered coveralls. "Sets," she explains, giving me a hug as she comes inside. "Your brother helped with building yesterday and today we painted." I nod. "And, if you're cool with presenting the day after tomorrow, I would love to schedule your writing workshop then!"

"That'll work," I agree, figuring I'll come up with exactly what I'll be doing for it tomorrow.

"Awesome," she replies. "The kids will be so jazzed to meet an actual Hollywood script-writer," she enthuses. I smile. "I'm gonna go see if Gabriel's ready to go," she continues, pointing upstairs then heading to the staircase.

"I'll be here, writing big Hollywood scripts," I joke, pointing to my computer's glaringly blank screen. Elisabeth laughs and skips up the stairs. I sit back down. Nothing comes. Even editing stuff I'd already written seems like too much. Gabe and Elisabeth descend from his room looking a little more flushed than when I'd seen them individually earlier. "Have fun," I encourage with a smile I'm not feeling as they prepare to leave.

Eventually I open a new document and make notes for the workshop from my chat with Tanya. After I finish jotting down everything I'd discussed with my friend that I want to include, I give up and shut the laptop, finally giving in to the funk I've felt since seeing the Zach's cranes on the dumpsters. I look out the windows and see that though I didn't get much work done, I did waste a lot of time; it's dark outside. Deciding that I won't be doing anything else productive today, I take myself to bed earlier than normal. Crawling under the sheets, I pull the pillow Zach usually used to me and inhale. I can barely smell him. Every piece of him that was here with me is slowly fading away. Hickeys are gone, the red thread Z is washed away, and now his scent is leaving too. Suddenly spray paint seems rather permanent. I close my eyes and remember the beautiful mural he painted. The big red "Love" heart is the last thing on my mind before I drift off to sleep.


	74. Chapter 74

When I wake up the next morning, Zach's mural is still front and center in my mind. I'm not sure if it was somehow involved in my dreams I don't remember or whether my subconscious picked up on something and kept hold of it until I woke up, but I spring out of bed and run downstairs in order to get my thoughts recorded before they disappear. I open up the notes I took from my conversation with Tanya to add ideas that Zach's work has inspired in me. Concepts and examples pour out of me and it's like my muse has returned in full-force. Eventually I slow down and once I feel everything that might have escaped my brain if I concentrated too deeply on anything else is recorded, I pause to make coffee and stretch and generally wake up.

I fill a cup and sit back down after finding a bagel and cream cheese to eat as I go over my outline. The mural's inspiration is two-fold. One part involves the whole piece as a cohesive work. The arms extending across it seem like a road with so many forks and paths and directions. Secondly, if you look closer, you see places and locations that provide backdrops for potential scenes. So with the thought of working with teenagers, who are so close to coming to their own pivotal crossroads in their lives, I plan to use the idea of choosing a path as the impetus for the scenes they'll work on during the workshop tomorrow. From that springboard, they will have to choose at least one important location that the characters they write will either start at or arrive to, or visit on whatever journey their choice at the crossroads has them take. Depending on the characters and their backgrounds and motivations, the decisions and locations each kid comes up with should be as varied and diverse as the children themselves.

I consider what I've conceptualized and I think I'm on a good track. If I was a teen in a summer drama program getting ready for school to start back up soon, I feel like this would be an interesting activity to spend time on. But what do I know as a 30 year old? Self-doubt takes hold of me as I wonder if I'm on the right track at all. I think of Tony, who works with this age group and consider asking him to take a look. I shoot him an email explaining what I'm doing and I've come up with and asking for advice and input. I attach the worksheets I created for him to see and send it.

Deciding to take a break, I get up for another hit of caffeine. While I'm pouring, Gabe wanders in. "Mornin' bro," he greets me as he grabs his own mug and waits for his chance at the coffee pot.

"Or afternoon," I quip, looking at the time and realizing I spent a good chunk of the morning working my volunteer project and hoping my industrious morning continues into the afternoon and for my personal work writing as well. "Late night?" I enquire.

"Yeah. You could say that," he cryptically relays as he pours joe into his mug. I roll my eyes wondering what that means knowing full-well who he went to see last night. He could as easily be referring to hanging out with Zach as he could be alluding to time spent with his new-found love interest.

"Well, I hope you and Elisabeth had fun," I offer, not willing to play games. "Do you know what her schedule's like today? I wanna run my ideas by her before I have to present to a bunch of kids tomorrow."

He begins stirring in his ridiculous amount of sugar as he replies. "She's done with the program around 3:30. After that she'll be free until about 7 when we're going bowling."

"Bowling?" I ask with a smirk as I lean against the kitchen counter, waiting for the whole story.

"Yeah, we're uh, bowling with some friends of hers tonight. I introduced her to my best friend last night so now it's my turn to meet her friends," he explains shrugging. "I mean, it's bowling—I did it as a kid at birthday parties. How hard can it be?"

"That should be fun," I affirm with a grin. "You can't bowl any worse than you sing, so there's that at least," I offer. He nods, taking a sip.

"I uh, don't know if want me to tell you about last night, or want me to avoid bringing it up Shauney," Gabe confesses with a guilty-looking face and raised shoulders. "Would you just help me out and tell me if you wanna know?" he asks. I sigh. I know this can't be easy for him and I briefly debate my options before speaking.

"If there's something you need to tell me or think I should know, then tell me. If it's something you would have mentioned a month or a year ago before any of this, then yeah, go ahead and fill me in, 'cause I'm still your big brother and I care and wanna know about your life. But if it's something that…" I pause, looking for the right way to express myself. "…If it's something I wouldn't want to be aware of or would be hurtful, then I ask you to use your best judgment before passing along info. Does that make sense?" I ask. He nods.

"Okay, well as my brother, I'll express how happy I was that my best friend and, um, er, _lady-friend_ met." I chuckle at his description.

"Don't you mean '_woman_-friend'?" I ask with a teasing voice.

"I can't call her my girlfriend. We haven't even, you know, and she's not like, a hit-it-and-quit-it sort of situation. So I had to come up with something to tell Zach when I told him I wanted him to meet someone. Usually he blows it off, 'cause to be honest, it's not like they were around for long so he didn't really bother. So I told him I wanted him to meet my 'lady-friend' so he knew it was important enough to carve out time between his dead-end jobs to meet her." I wince at his accurate description of his friend's work life and nod.

"How'd it go?" I ask, genuinely curious about Zach's opinion on the refreshing and original person who's captured my brother's attention.

"They hit it off, like instantly. She was wearing that paint-covered outfit so, immediately they started talking about painting and art and it turns out she's got like, a minor in Art History or something so they talked a lot about that and whatnot. I sort of zoned out for a bit because it's not really my thing. We ended up going to an art show at a gallery that a friend of hers was holding. They were talking about composition and lighting but it honestly looked to me like a bunch of penises and vaginas, so at least it wasn't boring." I begin to snicker at the thought of Gabe trying to look appreciative and reflective when all he probably wanted to do was his hip-thrust dance and make inappropriate remarks.

"That must have been…interesting," I conclude.

"Yeah and then we hit up a coffee shop and talked. I told them my thoughts and it turns out they were thinking pretty much the same thing so we all laughed. And Elisabeth asked about Zach's work and he mentioned his street art and she brought up schooling and he said 'Maybe someday," and you know, we discussed other stuff too." I nod, secretly pleased at Elisabeth's suggestion and Zach's reply.

"And uh, you know, I brought up you a bit. More in passing to Elisabeth than like, to Zach directly."

"Oh God," I spit out. "What did you say?"

"That you scored some hottie's number while in LA and were probably gonna call him," he nonchalantly explains, taking an extended sip of coffee before making eye contact with me again.

"Gabriel Stewart Andrews, why in God's name would you even say that?" I ask with a glare, absolutely appalled.

"Because it might be true someday. And maybe it's the kick in the pants Zach needs to get over whatever the hell he's got issues with so he'll get back with you. He's not the same, you know? He's not happy. And so I figured maybe a little competition would be good."

"Gabe, you had no right. I asked you not to interfere and I told you I wouldn't involve you."

"Just because I don't have a 'right' and you're not 'involving me' doesn't mean what I said was wrong and I'm not involved, dude. My friend's not acting like much of a friend and I'm pretty sure ending his relationship with you has something to do with it. If a little white lie helps him realize he's happier with you and makes him come around, then I win too because he'll return to being Zach-my-best-friend instead of the Zombie Zach he's been." I can't decide if my brother is being sweet or selfish, but I understand his point of view.

"Okay, well, no more, okay?" I implore. "Maybe next time, ask him what's bugging him than assume I'm in any way involved with his emotions and behavior. Maybe he was just having a bad day, G."

"'Maybe he was just having a bad day, G,'" he mimics with a roll of his eyes. "And maybe I know him well enough to know the difference between a 'bad day' and how he's been lately." I sigh. There's no way to win this argument. "But fine, I'll leave any mention of you that's more than what I would have said a year ago, out of my conversations with and around Zach," he concedes.

"Thank you."

"Whatever bro," he finishes his drink and sets the cup in the sink before turning back to address me. "I'm going surfing. Late." _Late!_

"Late-er," I correct with a hitch in my voice. Gabe leaves and I return to my computer. Tony's replied.

_S-_

_Looks decent. Definitely age-appropriate and that's important. Teens tend to tune out when you speak down to them and you haven't done that. What are you presenting as far as dialog? I'm sure you know how important that is. How's life with the Boy Toy? I bet you're burning through that Viagra prescription he mentioned. Hope you two are doing well._

_-T_

I swallow at his mention of my 'Boy Toy,' but am pleased he thinks I'm on the right track. I consider his advice on including info on dialog and begin adding thoughts to my notes. A few hours later, I feel like it's a pretty fleshed-out plan I have and am pleased with myself. I switch over to my book and wonder if my muse will take off or stick around. I tentatively begin typing. It's stilted and disjointed, but I'm getting words out, which is better than yesterday. I can always fix bad text, but I need something to start with.

After a while, I decide I'm done for the day and press 'Save' on all my open files. Gabe returns and takes himself to his room to shower after mentioning Elisabeth's on her way. While he's in the shower, I hear her familiar and enthusiastic knock on the door. Today she's dressed in pedal pushers and a light pink satin jacket with 'Pink Ladies' emblazoned across the back.

"_Grease 2_?" I ask with a smile.

"It's the most appropriate outfit I have for bowling," she explains with a twirl. I can't help but laugh. "And it's a seriously underrated movie," she explains.

"I agree," I mumble, before coming up with an appropriate reply. Then it hits me. "So is it safe to say you're planning to 'Score Tonight'?" I ask with a smirk.

"Shaun!" Gabe barks abruptly from the top of the stairs. He's dressed only in a towel, so it's a little hard to take him seriously even though he looks pretty pissed. "_What the hell_, man?" he asks with a glare. Part of me thinks he's getting what's coming to him for bringing up Brian's phone number. The other part thinks his lack of knowledge of movies filmed in the '80s could seriously be a problem if he's going to continue this relationship with Elisabeth.

"No worries, Gabriel," she assures him with small smile before turning back to me. "And Shaun, I can emphatically tell you that yes, I'm planning to 'Score Tonight,'" she answers me with a wink. I snort as Gabe turns pink. I debate telling him we're referring to a song title then decide Elisabeth can be the one to explain.

"Well, before you go scoring, let me show you what I have planned for tomorrow," I say as Gabe harrumphs and goes back to his bedroom, presumably to get dressed. "I don't think he's got a black leather jacket," I confide as I pull up the right documents on my laptop.

"I have one in the car," she quietly replies with a smile.

"Can we keep you please?" I reply, completely charmed by this new friend I found. I think back to when I met her. If I hadn't scared her sister away that night at the party with my atrocious behavior, we might not be here now. And while I'm obviously not happy about Zach dumping me, I am delighted to have a new friend who can handle my brother and keep him on his toes.

"We'll see," she says as she scans the text on the screen. "I mean, obviously I need to keep you around. This workshop plan looks awesome and I want you to do another one with my students when school begins next month. Plus you know about great characters like Spicoli and the Cool Rider." She looks up at me with a genuine grin. "And as for the other Andrews brother, we're in negotiations, but things are looking good." I laugh. Gabe returns from upstairs, squeaky clean and still looking at me like I'm some sort of troll. I stick my tongue out at him as Elisabeth hugs me before they head out. "I'll see you tomorrow Shaun," she says with enthusiastic vigor. "If you're there by 10:30 that would be awesome. Gabriel can give you directions!" she finishes.

"Sounds good. Have fun scoring tonight!" I reply cheekily ignoring Gabe's death-glare. They leave and I burst out laughing. I make soupy macaroni and cheese for dinner and decide to watch TV. I flip through channels not really settling on anything, but I don't let that or super-limp noodles faze my good mood. I grab my laptop and leave the TV on for background noise while I attempt to work some more. My muse hasn't left! I work for a solid couple of hours before calling it a night and going to sleep.


	75. Chapter 75

When I wake in the morning, I find myself looking forward to the workshop I'd prepped so much for yesterday. It's a nice difference to wake up looking forward to something than waking up sad or depressed like I have been. In fact, the past few days have been a vast improvement over the previous ones since Zach drove away. I credit my upbeat attitude to getting out, surrounding myself with people who care about me, and trying new things. Proud I can cross off "singing in public," and "teaching a class" from my bucket list, I get out of bed and head to the bathroom. I'm able to shower without focusing on my breathing or playing any mind tricks like listing states. I'm slowly healing.

When I'm done bathing, I wrap a towel around my waist and walk purposefully to the closet to select an outfit. I know Elisabeth mentioned "dressing the part," but I'm doubtful about what "a writer" is supposed to wear. I find a brown-striped polo shirt that is probably the most authoritative looking shirt I have that's clean. I pull it from the hanger, considering it. The last time it was worn was when I lent it to Zach the day we listed off what we liked about each other. I think about that day briefly and end the thoughts with a small smile. It was an amazing day and I consciously choose to think of it in that way rather than being sad that the amazingness didn't continue for too long after that. I realize it's not the shirt's fault and quickly throw it on.

When I finish dressing, I run downstairs to grab a bite to eat and gather my stuff. I see Elisabeth's pink jacket next to a black leather T-Birds jacket thrown over the back of a chair. I smile and wonder how bowling went and whether any "scoring" happened. Next to my laptop is a note from Gabe with directions to Elisabeth's group. At the bottom, in considerably neater handwriting is a note.

_Shaun,_

_Can't wait to work with you! The kids will love your workshop! Thanks again!_

_xoxo_

_/E._

I grin and tuck the page into my notes. I pour myself a bowlful of cereal and stand at the counter to eat it. When I finish it, I wash out the bowl and collect everything I need and stow it in a messenger bag before heading to the car. I pull out the directions and begin driving. I arrive with a few minutes to spare. The group meets in a Community Center, and I pass posters for Lamaze seminars and classes for seniors wanting to learn how to use the internet. I look at the paper filled with Gabe's scrawl to find out where I am supposed to go. As I approach the correct room, I can hear Elisabeth addressing the group from the hall.

"Alright guys, we're having a real Hollywood script-writer visit today to host a workshop on writing. I expect all of you to respect Mr. Andrews…" she says as a girl's voice excitedly interrupts.

"Is Gabe coming back again!"

"Er, no. This is another Mr. Andrews. His name is Shaun." I step inside the room to see about 20 teenagers assembled on some couches forming a semi-circle in front of a stage that Elisabeth's sitting on as she continues. "…And here he is. Kids, I want to introduce you to Mr. Shaun Andrews, who's written several scripts for movies and TV shows you've probably seen." The teens eye me up and down. Most seem interested though a couple girls look disappointed and I imagine they were most likely enamored with my brother and are sad it's not him helping out today. I smile and wave, grasping my bag to me as I approach my friend.

"Hi guys," I greet them with a smile. I plant myself next to Elisabeth at the edge of the stage and look to her for guidance. Today she's wearing jeans and another band t-shirt, similar to how she looked the night I met her. "I'm glad to be able to come here today and work on a writing exercise with you all."

"And we're so glad you're here Shaun," Elisabeth replies with a warm smile. "We're a pretty casual group, so if you're comfortable presenting from here, the floor is yours. Or we have a podium that I could go get," she continues, gesturing to some furniture stacked in a corner.

"Oh, no. This is fine," I assure her, appreciative of the laid-back vibe. I scoot back onto the stage and open up my satchel to pull out notes. Elisabeth hops down and settles onto the arm of one of the couches.

"So, uh, I'm Shaun Andrews. I write novels and screenplays. I've written scripts for the past several years and it's a fun job. It's pretty rewarding to see my words on screen and I'm lucky to be able to write consistently. I usually have a few different projects going at once, so while writing can be a very solitary profession, it's rarely boring." I pause to see if I'm boring anyone yet. So far, so good; I have the entire group's attention.

"I'm currently working on a script for a movie, and just finished another one. I've also worked on scripts for show pilots and occasionally collaborate with other writers. I especially like script writing because I can learn all about new subjects that I otherwise wouldn't have studied. For most of the stuff get hired to write, I'm given a general plot or some key points and I go from there as far as fleshing the ideas out into a functional script. Once I'm done, I submit it and the studio could ask for re-writes or give it to a writer on staff so not everything I write gets shot the way I wrote it, which is something every writer has to deal with." I look at the group and am encouraged to see a couple kids nodding.

"So today, I figured I'd start all of you out that way, and then you will turn in your finished scripts to your teacher and I can take a look at them and give you feedback." Some of the kids start taking notes and I'm pleased to see their eagerness. "Let's start with the general theme and then I'll give you some tips and advice and if you have any questions, I'll be happy to answer them." The kids nod and Elisabeth beams.

"I thought that a good general theme would be characters at a crossroad, which could be taken literally or figuratively. Now when you think of diverging roads, ultimately it involves a choice. How your characters decide and then deal with the choices they make turn up the conflict in a script. Our choices affect more than just ourselves usually, so have your dialog reflect that. Location is also a factor to take into consideration. The scenes consist of where your characters are and where they're going. You all, as teenagers, are on the verge of approaching some pretty major crossroads in your lives so I am really interested to see all of your different perspectives." I open my bag to pull out sheets to distribute that contain parameters of the project. Elisabeth gestures to one of Gabe's fan-girls to pass them out. As she hands them to the other kids, I continue.

"As far characters, I suggest for this assignment, that you keep your main characters to a minimum of two or three. You should know a lot more about your character than what's contained in the script. You'll get more genuine dialog from characters you're super-familiar with, so for example, you should know things like the contents of their pockets, their favorite soda, how they celebrate their birthdays, any weird quirky habits they have, et cetera. You'll probably never need to use the info, but knowing stuff like that will be invaluable. Beyond the words they speak, knowing more about your characters will help you determine their actions as well." I pause to pull a water bottle from my messenger bag and take a sip. Several of the kids are furiously writing notes and a few are perusing the paperwork that was passed out.

"You've all heard the term 'actions speak louder than words,' and it's true. A lot of a character's personality is revealed to the audience by what they do. As a writer, I call that 'show, not tell,' meaning characters who are good people don't tell others 'I'm a good person;' the viewer determines their worth based on what they do. Always look for opportunities to reveal information about a character by showing it." All of the sudden, something in my subconscious piques my interest. Since I'm mid-lecture, I can't exactly pause to give it attention right now, so I make a mental note to re-visit this part of my speech when I'm finished as I proceed. "And as human beings, our words are easy to manipulate. If you're having a bad day, you can say 'I'm doing great,' but unless you're behaving like someone who's having a great day, it will seem disingenuous."

I wind down my spiel and open it up for questions. I'm impressed by the intelligence and thoughtfulness of some of the requests. I finish answering and the group breaks apart to begin writing exercises throughout the room. I go from group to group and offer input and advice, all the while, attempting to return to whatever was triggered in my brain mid-lesson. It's too difficult so I quit and focus on helping the students. After a while, I'm no longer being called to anyone to help and Elisabeth points to the hallway with a nod. I grab my satchel and meet her just outside the door.

"Shaun, that was great! Every single one of them was engrossed in what you had to say," she begins enthusiastically. "I can't thank you enough for agreeing to do this." I smile.

"I had fun," I admit. "I think I actually learned a lot too. And I'm anxious to see what they come up with." She nods. "So thanks for the opportunity. I'm uh, I'm glad I agreed," I confess.

"Well, if you hadn't, I would have blackmailed you, so you just made my life easier," Elisabeth exclaims with a cheeky grin. I shake my head and laugh.

"Well, I'm gonna head out then," I inform her. She nods, and I duck into the room to say a final farewell to the group before leaving the Community Center. As soon as I get settled in the car, I race through my notes looking for whatever prompted my mind to alert me. Eventually I get to the part about actions and words and show, not tell.

It all tumbles together in my mind for a bit before it hits me: sometimes a character or person tells you _exactly what they mean_. And what they show you just reiterates that. When I've thought about Zach, it was always hopeful that he'd come around, but he said he was over and I stayed in Long Beach waiting for him to change his mind. I used Gabe's insistence that he was wearing my clothes as proof that he still cared. But what has he shown me? Nothing. I can't think of one thing he's done or said to convince me he feels otherwise than the hurtful words he spewed at me the last time we spoke. Yet I've been waiting for him. I even gave myself a couple weeks to wait. Why have I even bothered moving forward and getting out and doing things yet still hold fast to the hope he'll return?

I squeeze the bridge of my nose as I consider this. What am I doing? Zach's not coming back. I am wasting my time. He's moved on. And now I should too instead of foolishly staying here. I start the car and head back to the beach house. As I drive back, I make plans to return to my life in LA.


	76. Chapter 76

By the time I arrive back home, or what's been my home this summer, I've settled my mind on plan of action. It's already mid-afternoon and I have errands to run and more items to stock up on before I can inhabit my new place. I'll spend tonight in Long Beach and get all of the necessary chores out of the way tomorrow morning to be in the duplex by tomorrow afternoon. I'll also need to give Gabe a heads-up about my plans as a courtesy though I'm sure he'll appreciate his ability to entertain without big brother in the way.

How could I have wasted all this time waiting for Zach to come back? For someone who's 30 and has been through the ends of several relationships, I sure have been acting like a ridiculous teenager mooning over him with nothing more than hope keeping me going. The two-week time frame I gave myself seems desperate and immature. He was ready to move on and I should be too. I know that my feelings for Zach were stronger than for other men I've loved. Obviously. I certainly have never been one to wait around hoping someone would come to their senses. And the one night of slight melancholy I felt about Rich after the demise of our three year, live-in relationship is insignificant compared to the sorrow and heartache I've experienced since Zach drove away. I've spent enough time here healing, and I know I have healed—enough to arrive at this conclusion. I won't discredit how much the calming of the sea and giving myself time helped me arrive to where I am now. But it's time to move on.

I pull into the drive and sigh, gripping the steering wheel and squeezing it hard. Just because I know it's time to pick up and return to my life because he's not coming back doesn't mean it's easy to just let go. Hope is a powerful force and it's been a nearly constant companion for these past several days. I shake my head and pull the keys from the ignition, then grab my bag and head inside.

Gabe is standing in front of the fridge, holding the door open as he inspects its contents when I enter the house.

"Hey bro, whadaya know?" he asks, looking my way with a grin. He turns around and shuts the door after pulling out a bottle of beer. "How'd it go with the teenagers?" he asks, popping the top off before taking a long sip. "Did they learn a lot?"

"Actually, _I _did," I admit with a sheepish sigh. "It went well. The kids were great—totally enthusiastic. I'm glad I did it. And uh, I came to some conclusions from my own lessons," I explain. "I've gotta return to my own life now, G. I'm done waiting and hoping. It's time to move back to LA and get back to reality. It's been fun sharing the house with you," I smile. Gabe's got a slight frown. He sets his bottle down on the counter.

"Why? I mean, why now? I uh, thought you were gonna stick it out for a few more days," he asks, brow furrowed as he waits for answers.

"I just came to the conclusion that it's pointless Gabe. Zach isn't gonna come back. I realized I gotta move on."

"Uh, but…" he pauses, eyes darting around. "I mean, bro, you said two weeks. I figured we'd have like, more time." I shoot him a questioning look. "More time to spend together, you know?" he continues with a shrug. I'm touched he's concerned and has enjoyed our time living together as adults, no matter how brief.

"Well, I've done all the healing and self-reflection I'm gonna do here. Things won't change, but…" I pause to inhale. "…I'm glad for having got this opportunity to see you G. So I don't regret staying. You just, live and you learn I guess," I finish the thought with a nod. "So I'm gonna get all my stuff together and head out tomorrow," I explain. Gabe rolls his eyes.

"Dude, just stick around a bit longer. I like, still need your help. With uh, Elisabeth. And you gotta stay so you can like, see the scripts the kids came up with, you know?" While I'm surprised Gabe paid enough attention to my workshop notes to know I had planned to check in in a few days, his puppy dog eyes won't sway me from my decision.

"I can check in from Hollywood just as easily bro. And my new place will have a…" I swallow, remembering why I originally requested the 3-bedroom apartment. "Uh…a guest room. For nosy little brothers to come up anytime." I smile, but Gabe doesn't seem that impressed. He folds his arms across his chest.

"Why? Can you stick around at least one more day? _One more day?_" he uses his best baby brother wheedling voice. The part of me that helped him grow up can't deny his request. I roll my eyes. _Why is this such a big deal to him?_

"Fine Gabe. I'll stay. _One_ more day. If it's that important to you, I'll stay tomorrow and gather all my stuff and leave the next morning instead.

"Awesome bro!" he exclaims, raising his hand in the air for a high-five. I reluctantly give him one and I hope the skeptical look on my face conveys how weird I think he's being.

"So what's on the agenda for tomorrow then?" I ask, curious to see what he's got planned that's so important I need to stay.

"Uh, surfing. We haven't gotten to do that much of it together," he explains. I raise my eyebrows at his wild hand gestures as he continues. "I'm uh…" He looks around the kitchen wildly, and I begin to consider the possibility that he may be high. "…Considering you know, um, a longboard. And I need your, like, advice and input." This confession comes as a surprise to me since Gabe spends an inordinate amount of time teasing me about mine when we hit the beach.

"Okay, we'll go surfing tomorrow," I agree. "Your best friend left his longboard here so you can use that one."

"Cool. Thanks bro," he gives me one of his tight hugs with a closed-fist pat on the back, then grabs his bottle and takes off to his room. As he leaves I shake my head and consider his weird request. Something's clearly going on and I can only hope that he snaps out of it before I leave. Gabe's never been clingy.

I consider the new timeline an additional day has given me. I'll get shopping done tomorrow afternoon and still will leave in the morning, just a day later than I had hastily planned. I'll use the time today to gather all the stuff here I wanted to take for my new place. I grab my own beer from the refrigerator and take myself to my room to begin inventorying what will stay and what will go.

My first thought is the entertainment center. I'd already begun cleaning it out the night I found _Skate This!_ and the walkie-talkie. I open it up and pull out some additional stuff that had been shoved in there, sorting through trash and things that Gabe might want to keep. Once it's empty, I gather the stuff my brother may want into a stack. Looking up at the TV, I remember the DVD and pull it out, putting it back in its case to add to the 'For Gabe' pile. Next I grab the hamper and pick up all the clothes around the room that didn't make it in there.

As I am in the bathroom collecting towels to do a load of laundry, I see Zach's toothbrush. I pull it from the holder and squeeze, looking at the trash can it should go in. A flick of the wrist is all it will take to finish this simple task. I look at my toothbrush still on the counter, looking lonely, then down at the red one in my hand and my knuckles are white from the strength of my grip. _Not yet._ I sigh and return it to the holder next to mine. I'll toss it tomorrow.

Once the towels have been collected, I take the load to the laundry room and begin the washer. When I return to my room, I gather the pile for Gabe and remember the walkie-talkie. I frown and go to get it from between the bed and nightstand. I inspect this radio and consider how it was the start of my interaction with Zach after that first day surfing. I remember how Cody would contact me with it when they were on their way over. I gingerly press the 'Talk' button, then sigh and let it go. I will it to say something, but it remains silent. I add it to Gabe's stuff. It belongs to him and should be returned. I collect it all in my arms and head to his room.

The door is closed and I can vaguely hear him talking on the other side. I tap on the door a couple times and from his muffled words I hear "I'll call you back." Seconds later, Gabe opens the door and ushers me in. I drop the pile of stuff on his bed.

"This is your stuff I didn't toss or clear out of the entertainment center in my room. I know you were upset about the magazines and their, uh, 'sentimental value' to you, so I wanted to be sure you had everything else." Gabe rifles through the items, grabbing the DVD with a smile.

"Oh, we should watch this, it's so…" Before he can even continue, I cut him off.

"I've seen it bro. Several times."

"Got it. So, you're not like, over him? Just moving on?" I nod.

"Waiting around isn't going to change things, and it was, uh, silly to hope he'd come around. But I'm not upset I stuck around and got to see you," I explain.

"But what if he does come to his senses? Does he know where you'll be?"

"Gabe, that's not gonna happen. And if it miraculously were to, he's got my number. And obviously he can contact you, so that's not the issue. The issue is me. I need to move on. Maybe I'll call that Brian guy if I can find his number," I admit, considering the idea. It took me putting myself out there and socializing with friends to get out of my sad funk; this would be the next logical step to moving forward with my life. I smile and leave, remembering my 'last first kiss' dilemma and shaking my head at my own nonsense.

I spend the rest of the evening finishing laundry and organizing. Gabe spends a good portion of the time in his room before taking off. As I crawl into bed, I look at the mattress and sheets and frame, considering it. Originally I planned to take this bed along with me since I was on a budget and it was associated with some pretty amazing memories. With Larry's money, I can easily get a new one with no history and this is my last thought before I drift off to sleep.


	77. Chapter 77

When I wake up the next morning, I feel positive about my decisions. I'll purchase a new bed when I get to LA and leave this one where it belongs: here. I don't know what my dreams throughout the night were regarding or about but I feel a deep sense of peace about the whole situation. My relationship with Zach was short but significant. The bed will stay here where we started and ultimately ended. Someday I will have only fond memories of when Zach and I belonged to each other.

I get out of bed to start the day, pulling out a wetsuit and clothes appropriate for the beach. When I run downstairs to grab breakfast, Gabe's already got the coffee on and is eating a banana.

"Mornin' brother. Ready to explore the joys of longboarding?" I ask with a grin.

"Uh, yeah I guess," he mutters, tossing the banana peel in the trash and grabbing a blueberry muffin from the pantry.

"You were the one who was so gung-ho about it yesterday," I reply as I debate my bread options to make toast. Gabe shrugs his shoulders and then nods. Something is definitely going on, and I begin to wonder if things with Elisabeth are alright because he's acting weird again. "Are you okay? Are things with your, uh, lady-friend okay?"

Gabe looks startled by my questions. "Yeah she's fine. She's gonna meet us at the beach if that's okay," he answers. I nod, and grab the sourdough from the pantry.

"When do you wanna head out? I've got errands to run later today before I leave tomorrow."

"Uh, maybe in like, an hour?" he asks as I shove the sourdough slices into the toaster and grab butter and jam from the fridge. I nod and use the butter knife to pull my toasted bread out of the toaster before slathering it in yellow. I pour a cup of coffee and wait for the butter to melt before swiping strawberry jam across my toast. Gabe ambles out of the kitchen after pouring himself another cup.

I finish my breakfast and return to my room to get my gear before meeting my brother in the side yard where the boards are stored. I grab mine and Gabe inspects Zach's longboard. It's the same one Zach was waxing when I first saw him after returning to the beach house. It's also the one that Gabe did some repair work on while we waited for the cab to pick us up the day of the party. It only seems right that it would be involved in my last day here as well as those other significant days. He reluctantly grabs it and we throw them and the rest of our gear in my car. I ask Gabe which beach he wants to go to and he directs me to the one near Zach's bluff. From the parking lot I am convinced I can see the bales of hay.

Elisabeth meets us at the shore, and she's rocking out a yellow bikini with black polka dots along with a big, floppy-brimmed beach hat and gigantic sunglasses. Gabe gathers her in his arms for a kiss and I smile at their playful banter. When they pull apart, she's sporting quite a blush and grins at me sheepishly. Gabe wanders over to some other surfers and exchanges high-fives while Elisabeth chats with me.

"The kids loved your presentation, Shaun!" she gushes with a smile. "I've seen some of their preliminary script notes and your advice really resonated with them. I can't wait to show you what they come up with!"

"Awesome. I can't wait either," I enthuse with a grin. "I'm uh, heading back to LA tomorrow so just lemme know when they're ready to review, or I can come back if that's easier," I offer.

"Yeah Gabriel told me you're leaving. He's uh, pretty bummed about it. What prompted the sudden decision, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I realized I was waiting around for something that obviously won't be happening," I explain with a shrug. "Might as well get on with my life, you know?" Elisabeth nods.

"And now your brother will take another step toward moving forward with his life, albeit a bit sooner than he'd anticipated," she replies. I frown, and slightly tilt my head, confused at her words. "With you leaving, he's lacking a set of wheels. I'm taking him to the dealership after your surf adventure," she elaborates with a grin. I wonder if that's what Gabe's been weird about since I announced I was leaving. With Larry and my mom away for so long, they have all of their vehicles put in storage, so my ride-bumming brother would be out of luck alone at the house. It certainly makes sense considering he and Elisabeth are obviously on great terms. Satisfied I've solved the mystery, I bump knuckles with him as he returns.

"Going car shopping?" I ask with a grin.

"Uh, yeah. It's time, I guess," he mutters, looking at the horizon.

"I'm sorry I didn't take into consideration how me leaving would affect you, G," I offer as I lightly punch his shoulder. He looks confused as he dodges the blow. "Me peacing out leaves you without a ride. Sorry it put you in a bind. No wonder you didn't want me to leave last night," I explain.

"Oh. S'okay bro. No harm no foul." He grabs the board he'll be using. "Let's hit the waves—I gotta kick your ass on this old-man board!" he grins and takes off to the shore line. I grab my board to join him as Elisabeth settles on a beach towel with a book and waves goodbye.

The time with Gabe is well-spent, and riding the waves and curls is the perfect way to say goodbye to my time here. I vow again to make more pilgrimages to the beach upon my return to the city. After several hours, we declare ourselves spent and gather up to go. My brother and friend change into street clothes to go car shopping and Elisabeth gives me a big hug farewell in case we don't see each other before I move. Gabe shoots me the 'hang loose' hand sign as they leave. I go to change and as I return to my car, Zach's bluff calls to me. I stash my board and other stuff in my car and hike up to the piles of straw.

I plop down and use the time to reflect and mentally say goodbye. It's apropos that I do so here, at Zach's special spot. In my head I tell him everything I didn't get the chance to.

_Babe, I'm sorry it didn't work out. I hope whatever the future brings for you is as awesome as you are. And that you're happy. Whether that means schooling for your astounding talent or you choose to take a different direction. I hope you get past the demons that have been chasing you and you find bliss in whatever life you decide you're ready to live. And I wish the best future imaginable for Codes. I'm sure he'll have you to thank for all the good stuff in his life. And, I want to thank you. For loving me however fleetingly. And for belonging to me for no more or no less than our perfect slice of summer. I love you._

Satisfied I've said my piece, I wipe a solitary tear from my eye and trek back to my car. From there I head to Target to stock up on necessities like toilet paper and cleaning supplies. I check out the home furnishings but decide to get that stuff when I'm already in the apartment. I pass the children's section and see Batman bedding and window treatments. Cody would get such a kick out of that stuff-His own personal Bat Cave! I don't feel pain thinking about it, and I smile, convinced I'm making the right decision to leave. I pay for the stuff and head home.

When I get back to the house, I continue organizing and begin packing. I really don't have too much to do. I find a big suitcase in the hall closet and put my clothes in that rather than the duffle bags I arrived with. I include a couple wetsuits and plan to bring my board so I can keep the promise to myself to visit the beach more often. Once it's full, I lug it downstairs and set it near the bottom of the staircase.

Before I can return to my room, Gabe and Elisabeth arrive and my brother is excited to show me his new ride: a silver Jetta. I act suitably impressed as Elisabeth jumps out to hop in back so I can sit in the passenger's seat as Gabe takes us for a spin. I'm surprised he chose such a sensible car. When I ask about it, he quietly mentions needing something that gets decent mileage if he's going to be coming back here so often. I'm glad he found Elisabeth, and with him in the area he'll inevitably see Zach more too, which is good. I know Gabe will be a supportive force in his best friend's life whatever he chooses. We swing by a pizza place to grab dinner. Then I ask to go home so I can get to sleep in a timely manner because I want to make an early start of it in the morning.

They drop me off and Gabe takes his lady-friend home. I wave goodbye and enter the house. I go about gathering up all my paperwork and shoving it into my messenger bag, then take it upstairs to continue filling it. When I get to my room, I stash some more things in the satchel and call it a night. I throw off my clothes and crawl into bed. "Sleep well, Zach," I sigh, at peace with myself and my choice.

I begrudgingly wake up to the sound of my alarm. I stretch and sit up then grab the clean plaid shirt I'd set aside to wear today. I put it on along with clean underwear then shimmy back into my jeans from yesterday. I shove the dirty laundry in my bag and put my flip flops on to go downstairs. On the way down I realize I need to grab my toiletries from my bathroom and finally discard Zach's red toothbrush before I head to LA. I'm sure it's too early to say goodbye to my brother so I debate leaving a note as I hit the bottom step. Deciding that's a good idea, I suddenly hear a sound I'm acutely attuned to, having spent hours upon hours listening for it. Sitting on my suitcase, atop a bright red hoodie that certainly doesn't belong to me, is the walkie-talkie I'd returned to Gabe, creating static as someone on the other end pushes the 'Talk' button. My heart drops to my stomach as I pick it up, knowing there is only one person who could have the radio's other half.


	78. Chapter 78

So many questions and thoughts and feelings pulse through me as I squeeze the radio in my hand. Where is Zach? With the long range this form of communication has, he could be in San Pedro, but I feel his presence much closer. What does this mean? How did he get the walkie-talkie from Gabe? Or did my brother strategically place it on my luggage for him? Either way—Gabe knew this was coming! He was involved in some way, which lends new perspective to his odd behavior the past couple days. But now is not the time to focus on my brother's motives when his best friend suddenly and mysteriously reappears back in my life! Convinced Zach must be somewhere nearby, I hesitantly look around, suddenly becoming aware that I probably have a goofy grin plastered across my face. I turn around and begin searching for the love of my life.

I pass the staircase and contemplate it, but considering I was just upstairs, I'm doubtful he's there. I continue on as nervous and excited energy courses throughout my body. I approach the veranda, which is thrown open, convinced I'm heading in the right direction. The walkie-talkie picks up static and I put it to my mouth and push 'Talk,' but no words come out. Regardless, it tells the person on the other end that I have the radio and I'm aware something's going on.

"Say something," my beloved quietly requests over the airwaves. My stomach clenches as I hear a voice I've been desperately missing.

While I'd love to reply with something worthy of a person who writes clever dialog for a living, I've got too much going through my heart and my head to say anything. My heart tells me to scream 'I LOVE YOU' into the receiver while my head tells me to take it easy because though I want to believe he's back because he missed me, I can't get my hopes up or think that without any show _or_ tell on his part. "You say something," I reply, continuing outside.

"Student was bad. Made bad judgment call. Now see truth." As excited as I am just to hear his voice say anything, if he's using our own, personal and playful Student/Master language, I feel more hopeful that he's here with reconciliation in mind. I step onto the patio and turn around, just to be sure my assumption was correct and he's not on a balcony. My original conclusion is confirmed; no one's there. I see slight movement among the curtains in Gabe's room but that's it.

"Where are you?" I ask as I hit the steps and continue down to the grass in my search. My mind is still racing. Having spent our time apart working on personal reflection and growth, I want to keep the balance and perspective I gained while also ripping his clothes off of him once I find him.

"Gettin' warmer…" he begins. I throw my arms out in an exasperated shrug as I continue looking. Doesn't he realize this time has been hell for me? Clearly he's in a place where he can see me. "Colder…" he continues. Normally this game would be totally hot, but my need to physically see him outweighs any playful back-and-forth that could be going on right now. He must sense my frustration because his next instruction is far less cryptic. "Turn around." I comply and am instantly rewarded; a repentant-looking Zach stands before me. My eyes dart back and forth across him as I try to absorb every aspect of the timid person in front of me and reconcile him with my memory of the angry man in his car. "I'm so sorry," he shyly apologizes. He looks unsure of how to proceed. I briefly consider allowing him to squirm for a bit before clueing him in to the forgiveness I feel, but he looks like he's been through his own hell as well during this interim, and that's not really my style anyway.

"You'd better be," I choke out, attempting to keep it together and not tear up with joy. He approaches from his hiding spot and I begin in his direction. The closer he comes, the stronger the butterflies that took up residence in my stomach when I picked up the walkie-talkie continue making their presence known. I continue taking inventory of him, becoming reacquainted with the curves of his face, his gait and mannerisms that are distinctively 'Zach.' I feel giddy and nauseous and wait for him to respond as I try to calm myself so we can have a rational discussion.

"You sent in my application?" he asks, and I wonder if that's the reason he's here: CalArts has this address on file along with his phone number. The part of me that wants the man in front of me to succeed regardless of whether he's with me or not is curious about the outcome of my submission behind his back, while the rest of me wants more clarity on his return into my life. Both parts of me are in agreement that they're grateful to see him.

"Yeah," I admit. Though I don't want to spook him by being pushy or aggressive, I need more information about his reappearance, so I begin my query. "Why are you here? What changed?"

"_I_ did." Two words sum it up eloquently enough for me. I nod. "Will you help me?" _How could I deny you?_

"Are you serious?" I ask, flabbergasted that he doesn't innately know I'd do about anything for him. "Of course. Anything," I elaborate.

"Anything?" he asks, a grin beginning to widen across his beautiful face. I'm curious as to what he's got in mind.

"Yes," I confirm with a small chuckle, but no hesitation or doubt.

"I got in-full ride," he announces. All the encouragement and pressure and sneakily sending his application even while heart-broken that he left me is suddenly worth it with this declaration.

"Yes! I knew it!" I exclaim with as much if not more enthusiasm than I felt when I was accepted into CalArts over a decade ago. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah," he affirms with a slight nod. "I really wanna go this time." I know how much this admission costs him, as he's been so adamant that he didn't need to go with his family demands taking up so much of his time and money and energy.

"Of course." I concur. I will do anything within my power to make this happen. Even if he is only asking for help platonically, getting him into school is my biggest priority. If I ever doubted my love for him, this realization is evidence of it—my desire to help him because he needs it and deserves it, regardless of reward for myself.

"I turned down the scholarship before," he quietly admits. I am stunned. Even more so than coming downstairs to find evidence of his return, this news shocks me. I knew he'd applied after high school, but just assumed, like everyone, that he was one of the countless applicants that didn't make it. And I'd hoped that time and continued practice improved his technique and skill enough to get in with this second attempt. He sees my confusion and elaborates. "Yeah. My mom, Cody, everything. I just couldn't walk out. I never told anyone," he confesses.

"Wow," I utter, surprised I can feel more admiration and love for him than I already do, but there it is, growing inside me as he continues.

"I really wanna go this time." It's settled in my mind: whatever it takes, we will get him enrolled. Whether that means me cutting back on my work for a bit and moving to San Pedro to help watch Cody or… Zach's words butt into my thoughts. "And, you _did_ say you lived close." _Oh. _My original plans jump into the forefront of my mind. He's ready to pack up the family and move to LA? I remember that I never got to explain my intentions that day because Gabe interrupted. I didn't realize the chance to do so would present itself, but I'm grateful it has.

"Well then let's do it," I confirm, starting to get choked up again about everything that's happened since I came downstairs.

"Yeah?" he asks, seemingly surprised at my support. I decide it's time to show, rather than tell, as we seem to have an abundance of time to figure out the future now.

"Yeah," I begin, gathering him in a long-overdue hug. Zach in my arms feels like home. I squeeze as he hugs back, in awe that this is really happening. "I'm so proud of you, man. So proud." I quietly tell him. His embrace tells me he's missed me as much I missed him, and I savor the tight grasp he has on me, like he never wants to let me go. I know the feeling well. "So proud of you," I whisper.

As I continue holding him, I notice my brother and Elisabeth peeking out the door from his room to the balcony. Gabe lifts a leg and does his ridiculous hip-thrusting motion while Elisabeth rolls her eyes and drags him back inside with a smile and a wave.

I pull back to look at this man I missed so much. I can't believe I was maybe an hour away from missing this reunion. And if I'd left yesterday as I planned, I definitely would have missed it. I make a mental note to thank my meddling brother sometime in the future, after getting my temporary fill of his best friend in my arms. "We have a lot to discuss," I begin, with a smile.

"We do," he agrees with a nod.

"But first, welcome back," I smile and lean in to kiss him. He looks skeptical and I pull away, suddenly scared that he honestly just wanted help with school and not to reunite as a couple.

"Uh, morning breath," he explains, turning pink. "I spent the night at Tori's to get away from Jeanie. Haven't been home to clean or bathe or anything in two days," he continues, looking down as he tugs on the hem of his shirt. I smile and realize that the deepest part of my secret subconscious must have known he'd be back since I'd packed up pretty much everything else without tossing his red toothbrush.

"Well, luckily for you, I still have your toothbrush upstairs, and a shower, and tons of clothes that missed you wearing them," I list, my smile growing even bigger. He grins and turns pink.

"Let's go then. 'Cause I need you pretty bad," he utters, pulling me close enough that I can feel what he means. I silently send thanks to the Universe for returning Zach to me.

"Sounds good, Mr. CalArts," I smile, grabbing a fistful of shirt on his chest and pulling him toward the house. He picks up his walkie-talkie which he dropped at some point during our conversation and follows me. I debate leaving my radio where I found it on my luggage, but decide that Gabe won't be getting it back ever, so I bring it along with me upstairs.


	79. Chapter 79

As soon as we reach my room, I toss my radio on the bed and then grab its graffitied twin from Zach's hand and place it next to mine. Then on to the bathroom where I'll allow minimal clean up time before he gets a proper welcome back. The nervous giddiness I felt when we first got together is back in full force and I can't stop looking at him, searching for changes since we last saw each other. When we get into the harsher lights of the bathroom, I continue my assessment. Around his eyes seems a bit darker than usual. I know the bags under my eyes have gotten worse in the past couple weeks and I wonder if he's had difficulty sleeping as well.

Observing my inspection of him in the mirror as he grabs toothpaste, he finally comments. "Is, uh, everything okay?" he asks, the reflection of his eyes dropping from meeting my mine in the mirror as I lean against the door frame. He squeezes the tube, putting minty toothpaste on his toothbrush then looks back at me in the mirror before shoving the brush in his mouth to begin the task of ridding himself of morning breath.

"Everything's great," I smile. "I was just, uh, surprised to see you this morning. When you left that night, you were so angry and upset and…" I pause to consider my words as Zach looks down again. "…and I hadn't heard from you since then. I mean, I waited here, hoping, you know? But I'd given up and was packing my stuff to go and now, here you are…" I trail off as Zach spits foam into the sink. "I uh, I missed you," I confess, feeling my cheeks flush with this admission. Zach puts his toothbrush back in the holder and turns around leaning against the sink so we're facing each other with only a few feet between us.

"I missed you too, he admits, gripping the counter he's leaning against, knuckles turning white. "And, I know you deserve, like, an explanation and maybe a lot of groveling after that night and what I said. Oh God—some of the stuff I said to you! I'm so sorry, Sweetheart. So sorry," he mutters looking down at his feet. And that's all I can handle before I bridge the short gap between us and grab his face and pull it to mine to taste his words.

I rub my tongue across his lips and feel his mouth ease into a smile before he opens it to me. I sweep in and taste my own toothpaste as I urgently reacquaint myself with Zach's kisses. He pulls me closer and our tongues meet as he runs his hands up hips, grazing my shoulders before pulling my face closer to deepen the kiss. I lean in closer, wanting to meld myself to his body so it becomes impossible to figure out where I start and he ends. I wrap my arms around him as the kiss turns more lazy and playful after an intense few minutes. Several quick hard kisses later, Zach pulls back and studies my face in his hands.

"You shaved," he announces quietly as we stand nose to nose.

"Yeah, it was getting pretty long and I know you like it scruffy…" I trail off because I notice he's got a big grin and doesn't seem that concerned.

"S'okay Shaun," he exclaims touching his lips to mine briefly before continuing. "I'll take you any way I can get you." The butterflies that were fluttering in my stomach all drop at this declaration and I can feel the faint beginnings of glassy eyes. _This is no time to cry at sweet sentiment, Andrews!_ I tell myself, biting down on my lip. "Hey you're pretty cute when you chew on your lip," he smiles with his eyebrows rising up. I pull this man into a hug and just hold on to him with my head on his shoulder as I shudder at how much I missed him. He begins rubbing my back. "S'okay Sweetheart. S'okay."

We stand like that for who knows how long. At some point my dopey brother peeks around the door with his hands over his eyes, a tiny crack between his fingers allowing him to see. "Yo, are you two decent?" I drop my arms and go to pull away from Zach, but he pulls me closer.

"Yeah Gabe-meister, we're not using your special deliveries and we're fully clothed," Zach rolls his eyes at his best friend while keeping me close by shoving his hands in my back pockets. I grin into his neck at his physical display of affection in front of his best friend considering a couple weeks ago he swatted my hand away and flipped out when I whispered 'Babe' out of earshot.

"Elisabeth—it's fine to come in! They're not _quite_ all over each other yet!" Gabe yells to the doorway. "Though they are getting rather handsy," he includes, eyeing Zach's hands' close proximity to my ass.

Elisabeth comes in shaking her head at Gabe then gives us a small smile. "I never said anything about anyone being all over anything," she replies good-naturedly. Giving a pink-cheeked grin and small wave, she continues. "Gabriel, I said you should _text_ them to let them know we were going out, not to barge in and interrupt their reunion. Sorry fellas," she shrugs, grabbing Gabe's waistband and tugging.

"S'okay, Elisabeth," Zach murmurs looking at me as he says it. "Gives me a chance to thank you two for helping me make my way back to…" he pulls his hands from my back pockets and runs them up my arms and cups my face. "…this…" He drops a kiss on my forehead before continuing. "…man…" the next kiss lands firmly between my eyes. "…right…" A light kiss is placed on the tip of my nose. "…here," he finishes the sentence with a broad kiss on my mouth. I kiss back, stunned at Zach's flippant attitude about showing affection.

"Dude, get a room!" Gabe jovially chokes out. I snort and turn to him.

"Bro, we're in a room. My room. And visiting hours are over. Don't you have somewhere to go?"

"Yep. We're off to run some errands and won't be back for several hours," Elisabeth chimes in. "Have a nice day!" she finishes, pulling my brother along with her out of my room and shutting the door.

Zach smiles and leans back in to resume our kiss, which had been pretty chaste with company. He opens his mouth and sucks my bottom lip between his, gently biting down as he runs his tongue along it. Eventually he releases it and I grin. "You're pretty cute when you chew my lip," I utter. He begins to chuckle and as he does he looks upward. I lean forward and lick his neck, swirling my tongue around his Adam's apple. He begins to groan and I look down to see his jeans are very tight across the bulge in them. I trail my hands down his sides and begin playing with his belt.

Zach moans into my hair, using his hands to pull my face to his as I loosen his belt and pull it out. It drops to the floor with a clang of buckle hitting tile. "Missed you so much," he whispers into my ear before using his tongue to trace along the outer shell. His hands wander to the hem of my shirt and dart under it, pulling me closer as he edges his ass onto the counter of the sink, opening his legs to pull me closer.

While all this is happening, the part of me that just barely survived his leaving me begins to protest. The rest of me tells it to shut up because I'm about to fuck his brains out, and I want to fuck his brains out. But Survivor Shaun replays all the sad moments and heartbreaking feelings and reintroduces me to the worthlessness I felt when he left, reminds me of promises I made to myself and how hard I worked to rebuild my life. So though I want desperately to continue this series of actions to their climactic conclusion, I pause, inhale, and pull back.

Zach's hands had wandered to my back and are tugging the shirt up when I put a stop to it. "Babe," I quietly murmur. "We gotta talk."

He sighs, tucking his hands in the waistband of my jeans. "Yeah, I figured," he replies in a half-defeated voice. "Any chance we can continue this conversation in the shower?" I pinch his ass and he jumps from the counter.

"Um, no," I reply trying to look as authoritative as possible.

"You're killin' me Sweetheart, he mumbles with a smile. I'm glad he understands. "Fine, let's talk but fair warning I fully intend to be inside you within an hour."

"Sounds reasonable," I conclude. We exit the bathroom and I eye the bed-not a good idea for a serious discussions. "Let's go downstairs to chat," I offer as so many memories of hot times with Zach in this room flood my mind making it difficult to remember that I want to know why he left as well as to map out some plans for the future before resuming sexy time. Zach shrugs and nods, turning toward the door.

Without his belt, his jeans have dipped low with his boxers peeking out. He turns to assure I'm following him and catches me ogling his ass. He gives me a sassy smile and shoves his hands in his pockets, dropping his jeans lower as he exits my room. I continue following him down the stairs and by the time we reach the bottom, his crack is peeking out and even Survivor Shaun is having difficulty concentrating.

We reach the kitchen and he turns to me to get approval. I nod and walk to a chair at the table, pulling it out and taking a seat. He props himself against the edge of the table and it's difficult to concentrate with his crotch so near my eye-level.

"So, let's chat," he begins, and I take my eyes away from his waist and direct them toward his face.

"Yeah. Okay." I try to form complete thoughts and phrases. It's difficult so I go for the obvious. "What happened?"

Zach hugs himself as he ponders on my question, before beginning to speak.


	80. Chapter 80

"I…freaked out," he starts with a half-defeated sigh. He shoves his balled fists in his pockets and continues, looking at his feet as he speaks. "I came home from surfing that day and Jeanne had found out about us and confronted me. Brought up how 'we' would affect Codes," he continues, pointing from his chest to me then back at himself. I shake my head. "And how if we were a good thing together I wouldn't have to hide it from her and my dad and my friends. I had just been spooked surfing with Gabe and you kind of blew me off when I told you to stop—not that how I behaved was in any way your fault—but all this just happened at once and I got overwhelmed. I sort of forgot about all the good stuff and could only see the negatives, Sweetheart. You know? How you're this successful writer and have this life you like, put on hold to slum it with me this summer. And Jeanne brought up how that's all I was to you, like, a diversion this season while you were in town—a 'summer fuck' and that made me think of this like, impossible situation we're in. With you living in LA and me here. And you know I can't leave Cody." He pauses for a second and looks at me. I choose to stay silent and let him say his piece when I want to simultaneously shake him for seeing any validity in anything Jeanne has to say and pull him into my lap and assure him that everything will be okay.

"So I told her I'd end it. And I almost pussied out and bailed on the party 'cause the thought of going and acting fine while waiting for a chance to end it made me sick to my stomach. But I went and Gabe said you were taking Cherie home so I sat there waiting. I looked at some of the girls there and like tried to think of them in _that_ way. And nothing happened. I mean, some of them were hot but, I didn't like, want them or have any interest. So I looked at the guys and I didn't really feel anything then either. All I could think about was how hot _you_ are to me. And how I was just some summer fling to you when I couldn't think of anyone else 'cause that's how important you are to me. And I started to get kind of pissed, you know? Which is totally ridiculous 'cause in my heart I knew I was important and significant to you but like, I dunno, man. Jeanne got into my head and made me question everything. Ug." He pauses for a second to take a breath and gather thoughts before continuing.

"So at that point I decided to just bail and deal with it later. I couldn't like, bring myself to confront you 'cause I was both pissed that you prolly saw me as a plaything this whole time, and devastated that I'd have to let you down 'cause you've never once let me down. Mentally I was a mess and since I couldn't talk it out with Gabe or anyone, I was just so frustrated! And the _only_ person I wanted to talk to about it, who would be able to calm me down and _maybe_ help me see things more clearly was the one person I came there to hurt: _you_." His eyes meet mine and a tear escapes down his cheek as he tells me this. I want to gather him in my arms and end this painful ordeal but I know there's more to the story so I swallow and nod and wait it out. He wipes his cheek and continues.

"So at that point I just said 'fuck it,' and decided to leave. And I got in my car and saw Cody's car seat in the back and thought about him and Jeanne and how I'm like, the only stable thing in his life and I'd been spending so much time with you that I was neglecting my care of him and I started getting worked up again thinking even without Jeanne's threats that I was in way over my head with you and my whole life changed so quick that I lost who I was." He pauses to pinch the bridge of his nose and look over at me. I silently nod, completely understanding this one aspect of his confusion.

"And then you like, just showed up at my window and I spewed all that hateful shit that had been boiling up inside of me. I don't even know how I managed to drive away after you got out. I drove to the beach and was so sick over what I'd done that I puked in a trash barrel before climbing in the back to fall asleep. And I woke up in the morning feeling even worse. All I wanted to do was get drunk and pass out but I had to work. But how could I leave you to be a better adult in Cody's life and just get wasted? So I made myself get up and go to the diner. I found a sweatshirt of yours balled up on my floorboard and I put it on to wear to work and even though it totally doesn't make sense since _I _left_ you_, wearing in made it feel like you were holding me so I was able to get through that first day." I nod again, remembering Gabe's conviction that he was still wearing my clothes.

"And then your brother showed up and somehow he knew and he acted like me being gay and hooking up with you was no big deal. And then he started asking typical dipshit-Gabe questions and I was pissed 'cause I was so sure he'd be up in arms over the fact that we'd gotten together behind his back that I ended up picking a fight with him too. And even with him being cool with it, I couldn't see how I could just backtrack what I said to you and maybe make things right so I gave up and just tried to jump back into the life I'd been living before you came back. But I couldn't be like, idle, or I'd think of you and get all depressed again. So I tried doing stuff. I went to fill out the rest of the CalArts paperwork and couldn't find it. And that seemed to be like, such a perfect metaphor for the shit my life had turned into that I gave up and didn't even care. I got a job as a stocker at The Oceanette to fill my spare time and make extra cash and that was my plan: to just continue existing like that. I was miserable. My life was awful. I missed you. I was taking it out on Cody and being short with him. It was no good." I don't know what to say or whether he's done, so I just continue nodding and take it all in.

He inhales and releases a big sigh before continuing. "So then Gabe came back early from summer school and like, even though I left things on pretty lame terms with him at the diner, he stepped up and made me hang out and spend time together. Kept not-so-casually mentioning how he was cool with me 'boning his big bro' and encouraging me to call you but I just couldn't. How can you apologize for losing faith, you know? And he mentioned you were like, living your life and moving forward, meeting new people and whatnot." I raise my hand to interrupt.

"I didn't…" I begin, but he cuts in.

"S'okay Shaun. I deserved to feel like shit. And I couldn't blame you for moving on with your life. I only caved once and tried to call you but it went straight to voicemail, so it's not like, you knew I missed you. For all you knew I blew you off 'cause I wanted to so let's not dwell on what he said. Regardless of whether it was true, I was still sick over it. 'Cause if you had met someone, well, good for you, but that meant I'd lost my shot and couldn't make it right, you know? But like I'd said, I had given up. And then I got this call from CalArts the other day saying they were accepting my application. And I went and toured the campus and the whole time I kept thinking about how you had to have sent it in after I'd done that horrible thing to you. And like, that kindness, that selfless awesome thing you did inspired me. 'Cause Jeanne complained that Cody wouldn't understand _us_, but that kid understands love just fine. And you would have to love someone pretty hard to ignore the asshole shit they said to you and still make that effort to improve their life. But you loved me anyway. And then it didn't even matter 'cause Jeanne being Jeanne doesn't wanna improve anyone's life but her own! So it was all for nothing! The agonizing days I spent apart from you didn't matter at all because she was gonna do her own thing, you know?" Though I have no clue what he's referring to, I nod, sensing he's nearing the end of this un-Zach-like monolog.

"So I called Gabe and set this up with the walkie-talkie 'cause I needed to make things right. And I tried to convince myself that I just wanted to, uh, apologize for what I put you through without expectations regarding a future for us. Or actually, that was like, the minimum I figured would happen when we saw each other again. Like, I'd apologize and you'd be like 'Thanks, good luck at CalArts, peace,' you know? And I was gonna be okay with that—was preparing myself for that, but when you turned around, oh God! It's like I could see my future and you were in it and I still can't believe you're here listening to me go on and on about this and haven't just told me to fuck off. I love you so much, Shaun," he whispers. At this point I've heard enough so I grab his hands and pull him into my lap. Straddling me, he pulls me into a big hug and I hear him murmur "I've missed you so much Sweetheart," into my ear.

"I missed you too, Babe," I offer, rubbing his back. He's so upset still. I can feel tremors erupting through him so I just keep trying to soothe him for right now. "I missed you too Babe," I whisper in his ear. "I was so miserable without you. I knew there had to be more to what happened that night because we were so damn good together. And now I understand. And it's gonna be okay Babe. It's gonna be okay." The shuddering has subsided and now I'm just cradling him in my arms. We sit in silence for several minutes and I will some of my positive energy I'm feeling into his lifeless body. Maybe it works because he sits up and looks into my eyes with his sexy half-smile.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too Babe. And I sort of have an idea for the future. CalArts and Cody and everything." Zach opens his lips to speak but before he can reply I lean in and kiss them. My tongue greedily invades his mouth to meet with his. As we continue kissing, his hands begin crawling down my back and his fingers insert themselves between my waistband and skin. I enjoy the familiar feeling of his hands on my body as we continue making out, and my hands go to his waist like magnets are drawing them there. I shove my hands under his shirt and enjoy the looseness around his jeans that a lack of belt has provided. As tempting as it would be to allow things to progress, I still want to hammer out some sort of plan for the future before I lose my focus in his arms, so I reluctantly end what I started with a sigh. "About the future. We need to talk." He sighs and nods.

"Yeah, about that…" he begins, but I have been waiting _weeks_ to tell him I want him and his family to live with me and now that I have the chance, I won't allow it to slip away.

"I want you and Cody Jeanne to move in with me. I purposely rented a 3-bedroom bungalow so there'll be enough room. I know it's not ideal, and Jeanne will probably refuse, but I feel confident we can get her to change her mind. As in, she won't have to find a job…for a good long while if she doesn't want to," I begin, earnestly hoping he'll appreciate the effort I've put into this plan. "I've checked out local kindergartens for Codes and think there're some good options nearby and like I told you before, it's a quick drive to CalArts. And I don't want you to worry about finding six different part-time jobs to make ends meet. I've got it all figured out, Babe," I continue but am startled to an abrupt pause when the man in my lap begins laughing. His giggles turn hysterical and he's soon wiping tears from his eyes. Confused, I run through what I'd said in my mind and can't come up with a reason for this reaction. After a couple minutes he calms down. "Uh, care to include me in the joke?" I ask, seriously flabbergasted at this behavior.

"You, you want me and Cody—_and Jeanne_—to come live with you? Even though she hates your guts?" he asks, incredulous. I nod.

"Like I said, it's not my ideal situation, but I'm not losing you boys again," I sternly explain. His reaction is unexpected; he showers my face with quick light kisses.

"_You_ would be okay with _Jeanne_? _Living in the same house? With you_? And you're cool with taking on the responsibility of housing a five year old kid?" he asks slowly. I nod.

"Zach I've thought about this a lot. It's what I want." He burrows his face into my neck and squeezes me in a tight embrace.

"God I love you so much Shaun," he utters before kissing my neck. His attentions are aggressive and raw, and I fear I'll be sporting a potentially-visible hickey shortly, but I don't give a damn. When Zach comes up for air from attacking my neck, he finally begins explaining. "You would do that for me and Cody. Wow." He shakes his head so I raise my eyebrow in question. "Today's your lucky day, Sweetheart," he begins.

"I know, Babe. You returned to me." I smile at his goofy grin.

"Well, then consider yourself lottery-winning lucky today 'cause have I got news for you!"


	81. Chapter 81

I lean back to assess the hysterical man in my lap. He continues to giggle uncontrollably, and I'm just so glad to see him this jovial that I decide to enjoy his happiness and watch him. This energetic man is a completely different person than the angry person I dealt with the last time we saw each other. _This_ is the funny, sweet, silly man I fell in love with—the one who makes me smile and laugh and inspires me! After a few seconds he settles down to explain.

"You don't…have to worry about Jeanne. I mean, feel free to ask her to move in if you'd like but, uh, she won't take you up on the offer Shaun," he confidently assures me.

"You really think she'd be _that_ dead-set against us being together?" I ask, crestfallen.

"Well, she'd probably throw a fit, but she's got uh, other plans for housing lined up." Before I can open my mouth to ask what he's referring to, Zach continues. "She moving. To Oregon. With Allen."

"Oh! She's taking the Ankle-Biter away from you?" I ask, suddenly sick in my stomach. "Or…oh God, you're going to Oregon too? But what about CalArts?" I ask, seriously confused at this turn of events and scared for what this could mean after Zach has just now returned to me.

"Oh Sweetheart, I'm not going to Oregon. And neither is Codes. She uh, doesn't want him to go with her. Apparently Allen isn't 'into' having a kid around so she's leaving Cody here. With me. And my dad but there's no real way he can care for his grandson on his own so it's up to me." He looks me directly in the eye as he continues. "I'm gonna be responsible for him, full-time." Images of the three of us flood my mind. A future with the two of them and also minus Jeanne sounds so perfect that I'm afraid to say anything for fear of ruining it. I just swallow and nod. "When I came here, I knew if you didn't hate me and would even consider a reconciliation, that I needed to share this bit of info with you pronto because it's one thing to date someone who's helping out with a kid, but I imagine it's a whole different thing to potentially date someone who's single-handedly raising one," he explains. I take another gulp of air before I respond.

"My offer still stands Babe. I want you and Codes. Full-time, living together, with me, in LA. I love that boy and I love you and I was willing to include your sister if it meant I could be with you, but this is…this is the dream then!" I exclaim, grasping his shoulders and squeezing, but he still looks unconvinced. "Look Zach, I'm 30 years old! I know what I want and what I want is you and the Half-Pint. You may be young and impressionable and maybe you're unsure. And that's okay. 'Cause I'm sure about us, Babe." I tell him earnestly. A smile breaks out across his face and he sighs.

"You're seriously okay with us moving in? Don't wanna like, consider it or look at and consider different options? I feel like you're signing up for something you might regret later," he cautions, slowly enunciating each word with a worried frown.

"Nope. I'm set on it Zach. I wouldn't have offered in the first place if I wasn't 100% sure. And like I said, I'd been planning to ask you for a while. Now I finally have the chance." I smile and he mirrors my grin. "But, I do have a couple terms I won't negotiate on," I warn with a stern look. Now Zach gulps and nods.

"Fair enough. What are your conditions?" I smile before giving him my list of demands, an ecstatic feeling pulsing through my veins.

"One: You're taking the scholarship, and you won't be working your ass off with a dozen part-time jobs. I don't want you stressing about bills, and frankly, I want you to keep your ass 'cause it's hot and I missed it," I begin, pinching the body part in question. "Two: I get to help with Cody. I want it all, Babe. I want to give and receive 'Sleep Well' wishes, I want to team up with him against you to buy junk when we go grocery shopping, and I want to continue surf lessons, as well as all the other not-as-fun stuff that comes with raising a kid. I helped you grow up so you know I'm capable," I earnestly explain. "Three, I get first-rights when it comes to purchasing your art. In school and when you graduate. For, oh, the next eight years at least," I explain with a grin. "You're gonna be famous and I want to stockpile the early stuff when it's still affordable." Zach leans in to kiss me.

"Deal, _if_ you agree to my terms," he negotiates. I pause to listen to his list. "If you don't want me to work, I won't argue with that, but if it becomes a financial burden, we can re-visit this particular condition, fair?" I nod and smile, fully aware that that occasion won't occur and loving Zach for still wanting to chip in. "And if you wanna do fun things with Codes, you have to share the not-fun stuff too, like doling out time-outs when he's made bad choices, and coming with me to the principal if he misbehaves in school, and you can't spoil him Shaun—at least, not _too_ much." I nod again, excited that he understands my desire to help raise his nephew and not just be the cool guy Cody will be living with. "And three: I want first editions of any future books with inscriptions to match the first three. When you're rich and famous, I want a complete signed and personalized collection of your work." I burst out laughing.

"So you found the dedications, huh?" I ask between bouts of laughter.

"Yep. They were…beautiful Shaun. Thank you so much."

"Of course. I meant it all, you know?"

"Yeah." My breathing settles into calmer pace after the startle from thinking Zach might be moving north with Jeanne.

"Hey, how'd she find out? Your sister?" I ask, finally curious now that the future is as settled as it will ever be.

"Codes. He was uh, trying to get ahold of you. On the radios. Apparently Jeanne was ignoring him talking into it until he kept repeating 'Cody to Shaun, come in Shaun,' and she began asking questions. He told her how cool he thought you were and how we went grocery shopping and how he as a surf board here and about the 'Bat Cave' and I think she sort of got the picture with his glowing praises and his descriptive stories about all the fun he's had with 'Shaun-who-rocks.'" I simultaneously feel bad that Zach had to deal with his sister's anger at not obeying her instructions to keep her son away from me and want to preen at the fact that my adoration of Cody is apparently mutual.

"So how do you wanna go about telling her, about us and CalArts and moving in together and everything?"

"Uh, I haven't quite gotten that figured out yet. I imagine I'll come up with something when I see her, you know?" I nod, knowing this is Zach's conversation to have and vowing to stay as out of it as possible. "They're packing up right now actually. Plan to leave tonight," he explains with a sigh. "So being responsible for a kid starts immediately."

A calm sort of rightness about this settles over me and without hesitation, I reply: "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go get our boy!"


	82. Chapter 82

Zach gives me a questioning look and then speaks. "Yeah? They won't be leaving for a bit. You, uh, _sure_ you wanna go, _now_?" he asks, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking briefly at the ground before raising his face back up to eye me. I nod, eager to show my enthusiasm for this unexpected new chapter of my life that is suddenly unfolding. With a satisfied grin, he nods and gestures to the door. I lead the way and Zach follows, chuckling with a cheerful shake of his head.

We step outside and the sight of his Jimmy parked in the drive stops me in my tracks. Zach almost bumps into me as I instantly begin to focus on my breathing and think about my Zen place. Just seeing his vehicle is physically painful to me as flashbacks of that terrible night invade my brain. Memories of his hurtful words ring out clearly and I try to block them by tearing my eyes from the car and looking at my feet. Seeing my emotional response, Zach rests his hand on my hip.

"You okay, Sweetheart?" he asks, lightly setting his chin on my shoulder. "Whassup?" I struggle between the desire to lie and tell him everything's okay while throwing my chin up and ignoring the dread building in my stomach and just offering to buy him a new car so I never have to see this painful reminder of Zach's loss of faith again. He probably wouldn't go for that, so honesty wins out.

"It's uh, a bit of a shock seeing it. Your car that is," I begin hesitantly. How can I explain the crippling sick sense it's creating in me without it seeming like my inner drama queen's taken over? "Haven't been in it since…that night, Zach. It's um, gonna take some time for me to get over the memories of that, I think," I continue, between measured breaths. I realize that while I'm now aware of how Zach spent his time away from me, he doesn't know how sick I've been over our break-up. I know I'll have to clue him in but wish it didn't have to be so soon after our reunion, but clearly I can't ride in his car right now. "I feel like, uh, I am about to have a panic attack right now, so could we maybe take my car?" I finish in a self-conscious and small voice. I can feel my cheeks flushing and am embarrassed that I'm a grown man who's afraid of a damn automobile.

Zach looks back and forth between the Jimmy and me. He sighs and nods. "Yeah that's fine. Lemme just get the car seat out for Cody and we'll put it in your car," he explains, approaching the passenger-side back door to retrieve the seat. The car seems to swallow him as he crawls inside to unharness the contraption and all of the sudden I remember the difficulty I had trying to install it in my car before taking Cody to the diner. My sense of sickness over Zach's vehicle calms down as I focus on trying to remember how I was finally able to hook it in correctly. If I'm going to help raise Cody, I'm going to need to learn how to efficiently deal with a car seat, and I feel better already thinking about this rather than feeling gross and helpless about the auto in front of me.

"This will be good for me, learning how to install it within a few minutes," I lamely offer as Zach emerges from the side of the car, seat in hand. He gives me a sardonic smile and nods, but says nothing to dispute my claim. He hands me the car seat and shuts the door as I turn around and begin toward the garage where my car is. My steps lighten as I distance myself from the Jimmy and I roll my eyes at my own ridiculousness while I'm grateful Zach didn't question it too much.

Inside the garage, I unlock the side door of my own vehicle and look over at Zach. He's got his hands on his hips and nods at me. "Go ahead Sweetheart, lock it in place," he instructs. I crawl in to set the seat and go about pulling harnesses out while trying to remember how I finally was able to anchor it into place last time. After a few minutes of struggling, I give an exasperated sigh and spy Zach quietly giggling at my inability to finish this relatively simple task. A look of 'ah-ha!' covers his gorgeous face and he grabs his waist again. "My, uh, belt," he begins, with a smirk. "I think it's still in your bathroom. I'm gonna run upstairs and grab it real quick while you uh, finish up here," he says. I'm barely paying attention as I fight with the buckle and grunt out in agreement as he takes off inside.

Several minutes later I seem to have installed the damn thing correctly. I shake it and it remains stationary and locked in. Satisfied I crawl out and debate purchasing an additional seat for my car so this time-consuming task doesn't become a regular occurrence. I shut the door and crawl into the driver's seat as I wait for my belted boyfriend to return so we can go get Codes.

As I sit there waiting, I debate how far to delve into our time apart with Zach. I wonder exactly what Gabe exaggerated about or kept from him about the several weeks we had no contact. Obviously I'm going to have to address freezing at the sight of his car, and eventually get over it, especially as I'll be seeing it every day. I look in the rearview mirror to see the car seat sitting there and remember Zach's speech about how seeing that reminded him of his commitment to Cody. I can understand exactly what he meant as a feeling of devotion to the little boy whose safety it ensures washes over me. I feel humbled that I'll get to help raise him, and I can feel tears welling up at the thought of this second chance that I've been blessed with.

Deciding that having Zach find me crying might not be the best way to show him I'm up for the challenge of helping with his nephew, I wipe away any evidence of tears and grab the steering wheel, squeezing in anticipation. A few more minutes go by and I'm beginning to wonder what is taking Zach so long to retrieve the belt. As I debate going to find him, my phone rings and I feel a vibration in my pocket. I shimmy upward to shove my hand in my pocket and grab the ringing cell phone, smiling when I see my photo of Zach and me on the screen. I answer with a smile.

"Hey Babe, get lost in there?" I curiously ask in a cheerful tone.

"Uh, I needed to grab something from my car," he explains offhandedly. "Listen, I know you said you had issues with it and I totally like, understand and respect that, but could you come here real quick?" he continues. The dread I was feeling returns with a vengeance and I wonder if there's a way I can say no. "I wouldn't ask, but I kind of need your help…" I sigh. Then I unbuckle my seatbelt and open my door.

"Yeah, I'm coming," I utter as I crawl out of my car. I hang up and put my phone back in my pocket as I mentally prepare to revisit Zach's car so soon after being so relieved to leave it. I determinedly look at my feet as I march back outside and only look up a few yards from my destination. Zach is sitting inside the back of the Jimmy with the lift gate up, feet dangling. He's got his sexy half-grin spread across his face and I decide to focus on that while I approach. I stop, a foot away from him and notice his belt sitting next to him in the back of his car, and the seats are folded down. I raise my eyebrows and purse my lips and wait for an explanation.

"So, I get why you don't wanna go in my car," he explains, arms wrapped around himself as he continues. "Since your last memory of it is obviously a horrible one. And your desire to avoid it is understandable, considering that particular memory for me is also painful." I nod, wondering where he's going with this. "But, I also know that when Cody was having nightmares and refused to go to sleep that wasn't healthy. So I created those illustrations for him to take the bad dreams and replace them with happier thoughts. And it worked. He's no longer afraid of monsters in his dreams," he calmly explains. I nod, wondering if he's got artwork or something to show me. "So I think," he begins, unfolding his arms from across his chest and grabbing my waist, pulling me to him. As much as I detest being near the car, I'm magnetically drawn to him as he pulls me closer. "That the best way to deal with this situation," he continues, his hands grazing my shoulders and resting against my neck. He pulls me closer to his face and whispers the rest. "Is to create a newer, much better memories to combat the bad one you have," he finishes, drawing me into a kiss.

It's such a sweet idea and passionate kiss that it takes several seconds before I can pull back to ask what he has in mind. "How do you propose we make a better memory?" I ask, beginning to understand what he means. His next words confirm my suspicions.

"Car sex." _Damn, I love this man!_


End file.
